Faster
by LoneGambit
Summary: Brittany likes to drive: fast. As part of the most elite streetcar gang in Las Vegas, when she's not boosting cars she's racing them. When a sexy Latina from a rival racing crew throws a wrench in her life, Brittany's forced to make a choice: slow down and enjoy the ride or shut up and drive.
1. Agent Orange

There's never a time where anyone actually expects their life to get turned upside down. Shit just happens and then there goes your world.

Santana Lopez is lounging on the couch in the apartment that she shares with her brother in a quaint downtown area of Miami when her front door suddenly bursts open and two men stride into the room.

"Santana, we have to get out of here now." One of the men exclaims. He's taller, bulky build, his skin is bronzed like Santana's but his eyes are sunken and hollow from lack of sleep.

"Why the fuck is that Puckerman?" She retorts, the obvious defiance of the whole matter shining through her steeled brown eyes in a pointed glare.

Her friend, she supposes you could call him one of her best if you had too, returns her glare before running his hand over the top of his very shortly cropped Mohawk and replying to her with a careful shrug of his shoulders.

"No time for explanations Lil' Lopez, sorry."

Before Santana can even protest, the other man in the room, Noah Puckerman's 'friend' (the term is used loosely) Finn hoists her up and drapes her over his extra large shoulder. Without a second glance or further words, Finn follows Puck out of the apartment with Santana flailing on his shoulder.

They reach the street and travel a good few blocks away before Finn sets Santana on her feet and receives a well-aimed and very effective punch to his shoulder. In a whirlwind, she swivels around to face Puck and then distinctively recognizes that someone is missing from their little group. Her raised fist, the one she had intended on punching Puck with, slowly lowers as panic begins to clutch at her chest.

"Wait, where's Hec?"

Puck's face winces slightly at the name, but otherwise he remains his stoic self. He shakes his head.

"That's why we gotta go Santana, they got Hec."

"And it won't be long before they're after us too." Finn adds to the tail end of Puck's words, but it does nothing to soothe the fear and dread that is rapidly spreading through Santana's body. All she hears is 'They got Hec'.

She opens her mouth to demand an explanation is rendered unable to when a loud explosion rumbles from the apartment building behind them. Santana turns around to witness fire, glass and other debris projecting itself from a fourth floor window in the apartment building she just came from-the very same window that she has watched the Miami sunsets through before.

"Time's up Lopez. Let's go."

All Santana knows how to do at that point is follow her friend and his words. What else does she have left in her life now anyway?

* * *

"You understand what tonight entitles right?"

Brittany Pierce rolls her tropical blue eyes in boredom. She's not an idiot.

"I'm not an idiot Hunter, I know what this race means." She replies, tight lipped to the figure that looms just outside her driver's side window. She revs the engine again, feeling the RPM's shake the frame as a buzz travels through her body.

She loves that feeling. The raw, true power of a properly functioning car, in this case a 67' Shelby GT-500 Mustang, Canary Yellow with a black racing stripe down the center, rumbling beneath her fingers and body.

The feeling is almost as good as having the skin of a soft, beautiful woman under her fingers. Almost.

"Just making sure sis." Hunter's demeaning sneer reverberates through the car's cabin. Brittany fights off rolling her eyes again, instead focusing on the road ahead of her.

The quarter-mile stretch. 1320 feet. It's a common two car secret street race. The goal, besides not launching yourself into a fiery death, is to go from 0 to 60 MPH, or faster, in ten seconds or less. May the fastest racer win.

And Brittany's _always_ the fastest, especially on the stretch of highway that's lined up and deserted before her. She's raced on this track before. She knows every dip, bump and crack that lines the asphalt.

It's what Brittany has to focus on now. Keep her mind clear and her senses sharp. She's chanting that race mantra silently in her head when she hears it, the distinctive high-pitched rev whine of _the_ car. Not just any car, but Brittany's dream car.

A Nissan G-TR R35. The sexiest car she has ever laid eyes on.

Brittany has to swallow and blink away her awe as she takes in how the Agent Orange with matte black fender, trim and spoiler car of her dreams pulls up into the position alongside the Stang.

Brittany would do a damn lot to have that car as her own.

Suddenly, the whole situation becomes a whole lot more serious and Brittany thoroughly understands exactly what Hunter was talking about when he said this race was important. It's a rival crew race, because Brittany's never seen that car on these streets before, and it means they're racing for territory _and_ pink slips.

She loses and Hunter's precious Mustang goes bye bye, along with their crew's street creed they've worked so hard to build up. But if Brittany wins? She can't even fathom what will happen then.

Brittany becomes aware of the black tinted window of the driver's side door disappearing into the doorframe of the car next to her and she quirks an eyebrow as she takes in the sight of the other driver. He's wearing a black tinted helmet, and when he turns his head to glance at Brittany she notices his visor is down and impossible to see through.

She scoffs at that sight. What a pansy ass. Showing up in a car like that but not showing his face? What kind of racer does that? Brittany only knows of backstabbing, egotistical, pretentious ones. And now she wants to win this race more than ever, if only to wipe away that mysterious allure this other driver is giving off. Brittany can already see some of the racing bunnies attempting to get the driver's attention.

With a shake of her head, Brittany returns her attention back to the road. It's time to focus once again. She's never let a man beat her before and she's sure as hell not going to start now. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches the other drive subtly tilt his head in her direction before the black tinted window rises back into it's place and the Nissan's engine makes that high-pitched sweet sounding rev again.

Brittany gulps. She may have more 'balls' than any guy she's ever met, but she can sure as hell still be a little nervous. She presses her own foot down on the gas pedal just enough to make her own engine hum with that deep muscled powered.

The small crowd's measured uproar of approval draws Brittany's attention to where they line the sides of the sectioned 'track'. Other racers, with their streetcars decked out and parked on display, groupies who come to watch because they can't race, street racing bunnies there hoping one of the racers will take her home.

This is what Brittany lives for.

Her adrenaline starts pumping as one of the start girls, she notices it's Olivia-one of her favorites, steps up in front of both cars and after giving Brittany a pointed wink she raises her bright pink handkerchief above her head and glances separately at both drivers.

After receiving the signal that both racers are ready, Olivia drops her handkerchief in one swift downward swooping motion to indicate the start of the race. Brittany tears her foot back from the clutch and presses down on the gas pedal to spring the Mustang into action in such fluidity you'd claim she was a part of the car if you didn't know any better.

A satisfied smirk covers her face as the Canary yellow car launches ahead of the other vehicle. Brittany's heart is racing as she speeds down the track, shifting gears and keeping the car steady and straight. All the while, the Agent Orange car can be seen just to her right, in her blind spot.

People on the side of the track are flying by in a blur as Brittany's speedometer flicks to 45 mph, then 50 mph before it hits 58mph and she drops it into fifth pressing the pedal to the metal. She can see the 'finish line' in the distance, a single strip of neon green paint across a section of the highway she currently flying down. It's within her grasp and all she has to do is hold on.

The seconds tick by and it feels like hours to Brittany as both cars speed closer and closer to the end of that quarter mile. Suddenly she hears it, the swift squeal of tires gripping asphalt as the car next to her takes a jerk forward from its position, placing it right in line with Brittany's. She frowns at the sight, fully aware of what it means.

The son-of-a-bitch has a NOS in his car.

Brittany grips the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white, keeping the car torqued as it breaks the 60 mph mark. She has to grin a little at that. The car just hit 60 mph at a 9.8 second mark. She'll have to mention that to Hunter later, seeing as how it was Brittany's idea to overhaul the engine and replace the fuel lines that no doubt made the car as fast as its currently traveling.

All too suddenly Brittany realizes that she's upon the finish line and one of her comrades is waving a red and black checkered flag with the swirly three pronged symbol of fate on it, a racing symbol her crew has always used and that dates back to Brittany's father's driving days.

The crossing happens in a blur and Brittany whips her head to the side noticing, as dread pools in the pit of her stomach, that the orange car seemed to cross the line with her.

She begins to slow the car down and watches, slightly impressed with the manner in which the other racer drops his car into a quick dime turn, spinning the tires and swinging it around to head back to the main section of the track where the rest of Brittany's crew, and the crowd will gather and determine who the winner was.

An anxious apprehension overcomes Brittany as she swings the Mustang around and follows the other car back to the small crowd that has already formed in the middle of the street. She pulls her car to a stop at an angle towards the far edge of the crowd, with the open road on her left, and is immediately bombarded by groupies and fellows racers to the right of her car.

"Damn Pierce, that was a close one!" Someone yells.

"Yeah, Mike's saying it was a tie!" Another voice carries through the crowd and Brittany finds herself scoffing at that deduction.

Tie? Hell no that's not happening, not on her watch.

Brittany glances off to the left, noticing her brother standing off at the edge of the crowd talking to some guy in a grungy leather jacket and ripped jeans. She's never seen the guy before, and she would remember someone who wore their hair in such a crooked looking ugly Mohawk upon their head. She narrows her eyes attempting to determine just what Hunter might be discussing before she witnesses her brother shaking Mohawk mans hand and the orange car pulling up next to the guy.

She almost can't believe it when she watches the guy get into the passenger side of the car, which quickly speeds off in the opposite direction only to pull another dime turn and come speeding back towards the crowd. The group gives a little whoop at the brush of excitement but essentially ignores the otherwise stranger as the car slows to a crawl just as it starts to pass where Brittany remains sitting in the Mustang.

Brittany's not expecting the window to be rolled down, and she's further not expecting to be met with the most exotically mesmerizing sight she's ever laid eyes on.

As her dream car creeps by at a leisurely pace, Brittany is met with intensely smoldering deep brown eyes that regard her with a mysterious glint. Brittany gathers raven black locks that cascade around petite shoulders and plump lips the color of what Brittany can only describe as seduction, if such a thing had a color. The corners of said lips lift at the corners in the slightest upward angle, offering a hint of a smile to Brittany.

All these magnificent features upon this insanely attractive girl are accented by the smoothest looking caramel skin Brittany has ever seen and suddenly she realizes that her heart has stopped beating and she's neglected to breathe for the last few seconds.

Brittany is given what she will later describe as a slow motion wink, the downright sexiest one she's ever received, and then just as swiftly as the girl driving that damn Agent Orange car popped into Brittany's vision, she's gone and leaving a very confused and mildly aroused Brittany sitting jaw dropped in her car seat behind.

The last thing Brittany sees is the faint glow of red taillights.

"Well, I must say little sis that this probably wasn't your best race. Then again, I was told that the driver you raced is the best in Miami." Hunter's voice suddenly interrupts Brittany's thoughts and she glances to the right of where she had watched the other car disappear only to see her brother standing there with a placidly disappointed look upon his face.

Brittany steps from her car with a roll of her eyes.

"What are the official results? And who the hell were those people?" She gets straight to business.

"Well you certainly didn't lose, but there's not much else I can say." Hunter responds and gives a cursory glance to his car, "Bring her in for inspection," he then continues with a head motion towards the Mustang, "We have to tweak a few things and have a little discussion."

Brittany sighs at her brother's (half) lack of explanation. He's always been a go around kind of guy. She also sighs at the way he demands that _she_ bring _his_ car in for reevaluation, as if it was her fault that she tied the race and didn't win it. Brittany's pretty damn sure she's never seen another racer like the one she just witnessed drive her dream car.

Hunter disappears back into the crowd and Brittany simply shakes her head. With one final glance towards the exceedingly vacant track of highway the sultry mystery driver and her stunning car took off down, a small smile forms on Brittany's face.

If the fact that Hunter was obviously discussing something with the Mohawk man means anything, she might just have her chance at seeing that Latina goddess again.

And in Brittany's book, that's definitely anything but a loss.

* * *

**Who wants a little street racing Brittana? Anyone? Eh? **

**For the record (though it should go without saying) I don't own anything. And this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are in fact my own. **


	2. Backseat Driver

******A/N: FYI-I'm a new author though and you don't know me, so I figured I'd clear some things up. First off, this fic is foremost a Brittana fic-that's a for sure. Second off, it goes without saying that reviews, favorites, follows and all that jazz are always amazing and welcome-how am I going to know my story's not shit if someone doesn't say it's not shit, but I ain't gonna force you to leave one. If you like my story and you want to take the time to say so then I greatly appreciate it and I will always take the time to personally thank you. Thirdly, if you have any direct questions my PM or tumblr (lonegambit) ask is always open-I answer all questions. I always enjoy hearing what you have to say! **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Backseat Driver**

"Britt we need to go _now_." Brittany hears desperately called from her partner's gritted teeth a few feet away as she works from her position tucked below a cars steering column. There are wires and chips dangling in her face from the plastic dash that maintains the circuit cables for the sleek black Audi she's currently twisted upside down in.

She just wants to get the car started, you know? It's really no biggie.

Except that it is because this Audi is most definitely not her car. And if she's being completely upfront about things, she doesn't even really know whom this car belongs to.

It's just another car that was on the list of cars that Hunter gave her and Joe before they left the garage this morning.

Apparently her pompous half-brother really needs a few key parts from this particular model of car. That's how Brittany and Joe find themselves in their current situation: boosting the Audi to bring her back to the garage.

Boosting cars is what they do when they aren't racing them. Seems pretty logical considering their knack in the matter. They're car thieves and damn good ones at that. Brittany especially, she's been in the business for fifteen of her twenty years of life.

Despite her skills, Brittany's run into a particular situation: The Audi's new Retro Immobilizer system, a run on the whole infrared alarm system, is presenting her with a minor problem, in that she's having a hard time disabling the damn thing. Basically, the system is a chip that exists in the car, which can effectively immobilize, hence the name, the entire system if Brittany trips it incorrectly.

The whole thing is taking longer than Brittany had hoped it would and Joe can hear the police sirens screaming in the distance, signaling their ever-growing approach.

They've got to get out of there now if they want to avoid a long term run in the Las Vegas penitentiary.

"Pierce, times up seriously." Joe lets out in a shout as he huffs it back over to the side of the car that Brittany's still working in.

"Just one more twist." Brittany grunts out. She tweaks the body puller tool again to widen the steering column until the key mechanism becomes exposed to her searching eyes. Brittany reaches blindly to the seat where her feet are currently resting and fumbles around a bit before she finds the next tool she'll need.

When she gets the screw driver in her hand she brings it back to the separated section of the steering column and slips the pointed edge into the gap, squinting as she tries to place the tip of the screwdriver in the right socket. There's a clinking noise that indicates she's successfully navigated into the starter, now all that's left to be done is haywire the car's immobilizer so that she can start the engine without the chip telling the car it's not okay to do so.

Brittany glances once more at the separate set of wires that dangle close to her face. She grasps her wire fusers and reaches out to pinch the blue wire that has a strip of black running down the center. According to her sources, that is her computer guy Rory, this particular wire-if sectioned off correctly-will allow Brittany to bypass the immobilizers diabolizing functions and turn the starter when she cranks the screwdriver.

After pinching the wire carefully, Brittany sits up from her position of hanging practically under the dash. She can hear the sirens in the not so distant distance, and she can tell that Joe's starting to sweat like a pig in a pasture. Taking a deep breath and praying to all the car thief gods she knows, Brittany turns the screwdriver.

There's an awful cranking noise at first until the screwdriver locks into place in the starter and turns the ignition over. In a second, the Audi roars to life and Brittany lets out a whoop.

"Ah ha! Damn straight. Thank you Rory for being correct this time!" Brittany exclaims throwing her clenched hand into the air in a solid fist pump. In the next second, Joe rushes to the passenger side door and slides into the car just as Brittany packs up her boosting tools and swings her own driver's side door closed.

She hears Joe mumble out a 'Thank God' as he takes his seat and buckles his seatbelt, a feat that Brittany precariously raises her eyebrow at. Joe looks at her sheepishly and shrugs.

"What? I know how you drive Pierce, I'm not risking it."

Brittany smirks wider and rolls her eyes.

Ten point five seconds later, the black Audi is whipping out of the parking garage entrance and cruising down the street. Brittany has a solid grip on the steering wheel and her dominant hand on the gearshift. Just down the street there's flashing blue and red lights.

Brittany shoots a cocky glance towards Joe who swallows and reaches up to grip the 'oh shit' strap.

"Be cool Brittany. Hunter will kill you if you scratch this car." Joe says, his eyes wide in pleading and panic. Brittany just smirks at him again, as if she's scared of what Hunter might do-he's never had any solid hold on her. He's not her real brother after all. Besides that, what fun is it boosting a car if you can't mess with the coppers a little?

As the Audi gets in line to pass the speeding patrol cars, Brittany rolls her window down and gives a casual yet flirty wave to the cop closest to passing her. She knows she shouldn't, because all the cops in Vegas know what she looks like and further are very aware of the fact that she doesn't drive an Audi, but again where's the excitement if she doesn't at least tease a little. It's one of the things Brittany's best at.

She watches in her rearview mirror as realization must don on the cops as they both whip their cars around to give chase but Brittany's already two hundred yards ahead of them and is gunning it to propel the car down the not so busy Vegas street.

The good news is; Brittany grew up in this city so she knows every back street and shortcut. The bad news? She's got a whiny toddler baby in the passenger seat crying about how bad of an idea this is.

"Holy shit, not again!" Joe exclaims as he grabs his safety strap with both hands and attempts to hold on for dear life as Brittany laughs joyously from the driver's seat cranking the wheel left and then right just at the perfect apex to skirt the car around sharp corners. She can hear the sirens somewhere behind her but she doesn't she any flashing lights.

"Woohooo!" Brittany exclaims at the same time that Joe releases his own terrified cry as they coast over a slight dip and incline in the road and launch the car a few inches off the ground.

Brittany finds herself laughing more manically the longer Joe cowers in his seat. It's not as though she's an evil person, it's just funny watching 'big' men cry, especially when it's because of her own doing.

Deciding to finally take pity on the guy, Brittany maneuvers the Audi into a narrow alleyway and drives to a specifically sectioned off area. Back before Vegas was Vegas, mobsters ran the town and built all sorts of underground type hideaways and tunnels that connected through hidden and disguised buildings.

This particular tunnel is carved into the side of a building, there's an electronic type box that will open the garage door, which Brittany has to hack into. She takes a few moments to pop the box open and connect the right wires, splicing the ones she doesn't need, and twisting together the ones she does until the door slides open enough for her to drive the car through.

The door slides closed seconds after Brittany has the car safely tucked into the dark area. She turns the headlights on and follows the parking garage type tunnel through a few dips and turns until she comes to another door. Once through that one, Brittany and Joe find themselves back on a Vegas strip of highway, blending right in with traffic and hearing the call of police sirens on the very opposite side of the highway division.

With a smirk towards Joe, Brittany guns the Audi to continue with the flow of the highway and they make there way back towards the shop.

Once parked safely in the shop, and after tossing the keys to Mike, Brittany and Joe step from the car and make there way towards the main section of the two-story building they call home.

"I knew you could do it." Joe speaks up from just behind Brittany as she makes her way through the hotel type lobby entrance glass doors and walks into the main section of the building. She quirks an eyebrow and glances towards her dread haired booster buddy.

"Oh is that what your 'Please don't let me die' screams were really saying?" She teases him and receives a frown of disdain in return. Brittany chuckles and shrugs, stretching her arms above her head to loosen the tenseness in her muscles. She happens to glance off to the right of the building where large panoramic windows give sight to the outside of the shop.

She's not expecting to find an Agent Orange Nissan parked not so subtly just outside the shop's garage doors. She narrows her eyes and whips her attention around to the hallway that leads to Hunter's 'office'.

"Screw this, I'm not ready to deal with that right now." Brittany mutters to herself before she turns from Joe, who's staring at her in confusion, and walks back out to the garage. She'd rather rebuild a transmission and install a hundred new fuel lines than have any sort of discussion with the Mohawk haired man or that Latina woman she saw not so long ago.

That's just too much to think about right now.

################

"What the hell?" Brittany mumbles to herself as she rifles through her toolbox and comes up short of her favorite wrench. She checks the counter, under the counter, the toolbox in the corner, the box by the jack. She can't find it anywhere.

"Mike! What the hell did you do with my wrench!?" She yells out not making an effort to turn around as she hears someone enter the garage.

"Didn't know there were his and her wrenches." A voice trails over to Brittany's ears. Her body stiffens as she realizes she's never heard this voice before, but the tingles that are running down her arms suggest that it definitely has an affect on her.

The voice is husky and low like sultry voice on the other side of the curtain, and distinctly female. It reminds Brittany of those Telenovela shows she used to watch when she was a kid, how all those seductive Spanish women sounded when they rasped about on the screen. All too suddenly, Brittany thinks she might know just whom the voice belongs to.

She glances over her shoulder and has her suspicions confirmed.

It's the incredibly hot racer chick from the other night, and Brittany almost can't believe the outfit this woman has on. This may be Vegas, but that dress she's wearing is short enough to cause traffic jams if those long toned tan legs were strutting down the strip. The top half doesn't leave any warm-blooded person much of a chance at surviving either.

And God it's tight. Like it was painted on her.

All grey and silver sparkly in it's long-sleeved frock glory. The cut out at the chest doesn't do much to avert Brittany's eyes from smooth supple skin, but she supposes that's probably the point.

"Like what you see honey?" The woman speaks up again and Brittany raises her eyes from where they had been focused very near the woman's cleavage. She mentally scolds herself for being so careless in her leering. Normally, she's really good at hiding it. Normally, she doesn't have to hide it.

She swallows as subtly as possible and scoffs.

"Sorry but no Angel face. You're not my type." Brittany sneers, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. This girl is affecting her more so than she should. She knows that this woman is hot, that's undeniable, but Brittany doesn't do stuck up racer chicks, no matter how hot they are or how fast they drive.

"Do you have my wrench or what?" Brittany then implores, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes. To give the other woman credit, she doesn't bat an eyelash as she struts over to Brittany and slaps the tool down in the taller girl's waiting open hand.

"I saw how you replaced the cast-iron intake on that Mustang with an aluminum one. That was smart. If you replaced those clunky hydraulic lifters with some roller fulcrums, you'll have a lot better horsepower output. Oh and the pressure on those tires might be too high for the weight of the car." The woman says after releasing the tool and taking a step back. She folds her arms across her chest and waits for Brittany's reply.

And that's what just about does it for Brittany.

First of all, you don't use her tools. Second of all, you _don't _fucking use her tools. But third of all, Brittany's the last one anyone needs to be trying to give car knowledge to. And she certainly doesn't need it from this woman in her fancy heels and supermodel toned body.

Brittany grits her teeth and raises her pointer finger at the tan-skinned woman, fire pumping through her veins.

"Listen here Irene Cara. I don't need your backseat driving. So why don't you pack up your things and go back to Puerto Rico."

The woman's eyes narrow at the insult, Brittany smirks triumphantly at getting a rise out of the woman.

"Okay first of all, good job picking a poorly done racial insult where anyone born after 1985 is not going to know what the hell you're talking about. And second of all, I'm from Miami."

"Ohhh, way to break the stereotype." Brittany extends with an exaggerated flourish of her hands, "Regardless, you're still not needed here so you can go on your way. Take your stuff, take your flashy car and your glamorous outfit that belongs no where near a garage and make like a tree."

This seems to push the woman further and Brittany watches as her eyes suddenly burn with fury.

"You better watch your back Ashley Olsen. No me asustas." The feisty woman says before she turns in her white two-inch pumps and storms off.

Brittany hates the way her body shivers at the foreign words that escaped the other woman's lips, even if she has no idea what they mean. She also kind of regrets the way she might have watched that fine ass walk out of her shop.

She tries to calm her breathing but finds her pulse and heart rate are out of control. Brittany can't tell if she's angry with herself for getting so worked up over this woman or if she's angry with this woman for getting so under her skin.

She supposes that in the end none of it matters and what she might have thought of the Latina is old news now. She can't think anything else because the woman's gone now and it's done.

With a huff of irritation, Brittany glances down at the wrench in her hand before she resolves to return to her original plan of working on Hunter's Mustang. Shop work always calms her down. It's soothing to the soul. Brittany takes her newfound determination and makes her way towards the garage.

##############

"Hey Pierce. Hunter wants to talk to you about something."

Brittany's got the top half of her body leaned over the front end of the Mustang so that she's practically inside the engine compartment. She makes a noise of protest but works her way out of the car and turns to face Mike, the crews head mechanic. He does the stuff that Brittany doesn't want to do, or he helps her.

Grabbing a grease rag, Brittany wipes her hands off on the material before she walks over to her big black and red rolling toolbox. It takes Mike a second, but soon he recognizes the signs of Brittany ignoring him. He would know, she does it a lot.

"I'm just the messenger Brittany." He tells her and turns to exit the garage, knowing there's nothing else he can say or do to get his blonde friend to move, react or listen to the words of her half-brother.

Mike gets it, Brittany's the older sibling so technically it should be fully her crew, but since it was Hunter whose parents were the last to be together, their father left the business to both of them. Equally. Which means, in Hunter's eyes, since he's the guy in the family he gets top say. Brittany could care less about who actually runs the crew, she knows Hunter needs her regardless, but she really hates when her little brother tries to boss her around.

Cranking the last of the nuts and bolts on the newly installed secret component just below the intake manifold. If little miss spicy salsa thinks she can tell Brittany a thing or two about making cars go faster, Brittany will just have to show her how wrong she is.

Not that she's thinking about the fiery woman.

With as much installed and tweaked as can be for the time being, Brittany sighs and glances towards the shop exit. It'd probably be best if she went and figured out what the hell Hunter wants. She's not about to get him in one of his whiny moods, that's the last thing she wants or needs right now.

Brittany tosses the grease rag in her used pile and walks out of the garage, flicking the lights off as she goes.

A few seconds later, Brittany is striding into Hunter's 'office' without even the pleasantries of a knock. Not as though he deserves it anyway.

Hunter glances up from his desk, and Brittany rolls her eyes at the sight before her. It's not as though her brother has any real use of a desk, but he has one anyway and he sits at the damn thing like it's his saving grace. Brittany crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the door, a look of 'gives no fucks' clearly plastered on her face.

"Ahh big sis, nice of you to finally join us."

Only when her brother starts talking does she notice the other person in the room.

"Noah, this is my sister Brittany Pierce. We share the same father. She's probably one of the best racers in the country." Hunter introduces the Mohawked man sitting in the chair next to his desk before he turns to Brittany.

"Sis, you remember that street crew in Miami I was telling you about?" Hunter questions.

Something pings in Brittany's chest at that question. It's been a while since anyone talked about other crews. She swallows but nods.

"Yeah, _Libre Albedrío_. It's run by a Hector something."

"Hector Lopez yes. Well, this is his right hand man, Noah Puckerman." Hunter informs Brittany who gives a nod of confirmation before her eyes flash to the door where her recently departed, or so she thought, tan skinned nemesis enters the room.

"And this is Hector's little sister Santana. They say that she's the best racer on the East Coast."

Brittany feels her heart clench tightly in her chest. She can't believe this is happening. She watches, blind fury brewing under the surface of her skin, as Santana, the very woman she so desperately loathes at present, waltzes over from the secluded corner she was standing in to the chair that Noah Puckerman is sitting in. She perches upon the edge of it like she owns the damn place.

And then Hunter speaks several words Brittany hoped she'd never hear.

"They've come to us with a proposition and they're going to be staying with us for a while."

* * *

**I am not a native Spanish speaker and thus will keep this language usage to a minimum, but here's some translations for what I did use:**

**No me asustas: I'm not scared of you. ****  
****Libre Albedrío: Free Will**

**Also, I'm retracting my previous statement that I own nothing. I do not in fact own anything except Brittany's dream of racing a Nissan GT-R R35. That is very much my own dream. Thanks y'all. **


	3. Well I'll Be Fated

******I would like for it to be known that I fully respect and admire the person that was and always will be Cory Monteith. Knowing this, any negative connotations made in reference to the character he played on Glee are solely towards just that; the character Finn Hudson that was created by RIB and not the actor whom played him. My deepest respects to Cory's family, friends, and fans. RIP Cory Monteith**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Well I'll Be Fated**

There are two things sure in life that Brittany has always known to be true and to follow to a T like her life depends on it; one, don't trust a guy that's as tall and as awkward as an ogre (if it stomps like a giant, you know?) and two, don't try to ignore the incessant pull you feel for a devilishly attractive girl that's as good as you are at the stuff you love, because you will fail.

Her dad always called it fate; the universes inherent ability to know what the hell is going to happen with your life and how the fact that everything you do is predestined and planned out and all that shit. Brittany's been surrounded by the notion of fate since she was a little girl. It's so important in the Pierce household that her father named his crew _Fati Manus_, which is straight up Latin for 'Fate's Hand'. You really can't get more blunt than that.

In a run around way, Garrick Pierce wanted everyone to know just how much he thought that he and his crew were the bringers of destiny, and that anyone who stood against them or raced against them were sure to get what life had planned out for them. In most cases that was to lose, but for those rare few, it was to join an elite crew that would set them up for life and always have their back. And that was how Brittany's life became so much more than simple and predictable.

In Brittany's life, there really is no predictable.

So yeah, besides being one of the heirs to such an ominous birthright, Brittany also had a few things she had to know and remember. The first was general knowledge, the second was much harder to grasp.

As it is, the second one has yet to happen to Brittany, mostly because there aren't many girls out there that can do the same things she can and still be interesting, and it's a certifiable fact that those who are similar to her always turn out to be one hundred percent straight. Regardless, it's an important thing to remember both for Brittany's heart and her sanity, just incase it ever does happen.

Things may seem like they'll be avoidable, but in the end you'll just fall that much harder. Better to just give in and get it over with. If it wasn't supposed to happen, it probably wouldn't right?

Fate and all.

The first 'rule' Brittany figured out the truth to the instant she met Finn Hudson. And it wasn't entirely because he held the likeliness of a giant. More or less it was his awkward bumbling that gave Brittany the straight up creeps. Normally, evoking the hair on your arms to rise is typically not a good first impression.

Also, word to the wise, don't interrupt someone when they're stretched under a freaking car.

Brittany's halfway under the chassis of Hunter's Mustang, twisting her wrench and making kicking moves with her legs. Normally she'd be dancing, but when you're under a vehicle that easily weights two-tons, it's best not to make any sudden movements.

She's jamming away to the music that plays through the right headphone of her iPod when she hears a masculine voice, that's somewhere between pubescent teenager and guy pushing thirty, ring out through her shop.

"Uh, is this where I drop off the keys?"

It's not that the voice startles her (okay it does a little.) But it mostly severely pisses her off because who the hell is in her shop this damn early in the morning beside herself. It's seven a.m. for fuck's sake.

Brittany finishes tightening the lug before she wheels herself out from under the car and her eyes fall to a towering figure in the corner of the shop. If she thought she were any closer to figuring out how old this man child is she might take a gander at that, but she really just doesn't have a clue.

That's not the point anyway.

"Who the hell are you and why are you in my shop?" Brittany asks as she stands from her creeper and reaches out to grab a rag to wipe her hands off on. She kicks the creeper away from the car so she doesn't run the risk of stepping on it, or worse, someone else stepping on it and then she becoming liable for their idiocracy.

"Oh umm…I'm Finn. Hudson. Uhh, Hunter told me I could find you in here." The giant like man says and Brittany quirks her eyebrow before she folds her arms across her chest.

"Yeah it's my shop so that would make sense. But you still haven't told me why you're here, and it's quickly grating on my nerves."

Finn takes a bumbling step forward at Brittany's words and holds out his hand. Brittany notices a set of keys dangle from one of his doughboy like fingers. She is hesitant to reach out and grab them but manages to do so without touching the guy.

"She's all yours now, we parked her outside for you." Finn gives Brittany a dopey grin before he turns and exits the shop from where he came. Brittany watches, still curious, until he's clearly out of sight before she turns and walks to the shop doors that open up the garage to the outside world.

Brittany is rather surprised to find a charcoal grey Fort GT parked out in front of her shop. Her jaw just about hits the asphalt. This isn't just any ole car. She is a rare and extremely expensive machine of beauty. The only way anyone could have gotten a hold of a car like this is by stealing it, something Brittany's always wanted to do. She'd very much like to meet the person responsible for boosting this beauty.

She walks over to the car and swipes the folded piece of paper that rests in the cars window underneath one of the wipers.

_Thought you might like to take her for a ride. If you want a challenge, Red Rock's looking good this time of year._

While Brittany doesn't make it a habit of following the words of an ambiguous piece of paper, despite how the swirly uncoordinated slightly smudged letters look so pretty as they dawdle across the otherwise crisp white page, she has a feeling that this could pan out to be something pretty awesome. Whether or not it does remains a mystery for now, but she gets a wicked car out of the deal so it can't be all that bad.

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Thirty seconds later, Brittany is on the main highway heading west away from Vegas and towards the conservation.

When she arrives, she shouldn't be surprised, though she is, to find a particular Agent Orange Nissan parked exhibition style just past the park's entrance. Brittany tries not to roll her eyes but she can already feel the tension making itself present throughout her body as her muscles pull tight and her skin buzzes. She hates the way her body continues to react towards Santana, but like the Latina, Brittany's sensations run hot and cold and she hasn't quite got a handle on that.

She parks the GT next to Santana's car and takes a deep breath before slowly climbing out of the car and walking around to the front. Brittany sucks in a sharp breath when she finally spots the other woman, who is stretched out along her carbon fiber Nissan hood. Santana's brown leather boot clad feet are crossed at the ankles and her elbows rest at her sides, propping up her upper half.

A toned tan waist, defined in ways Brittany is not generally accustomed to seeing-lady abs like that are hard to come by, pokes out from under the too short, too tight cropped baby blue blouse tied at her ribs that Santana is wearing over a white and blue checkered fringe bra. Those long tan legs that Brittany will now deny she admired, whether that's the truth or not, extend from tastefully ripped and exceptionally short jean cutoffs.

_At least she's dressed in a mildly appropriate outfit_ Brittany considers with an ironic chuckle as she wills the saliva to return to her parched mouth and dry throat. It's not the desert heat that's got her so choked up.

"Enjoy the ride?" Santana practically purrs from her perch on the hood and Brittany snaps her eyes up from where they had been lingering on the curve of the woman's hipbones. She immediately catches the knowing smirk that is pulled across deep red pouty lips and Brittany suspects she'd see a certain glint in those brown eyes of Santana's if she wasn't covering them up with extra large black sunglasses.

Brittany shrugs in answer, playing aloof. Really she's not fully capable of any form of suave speech at the moment so she's going to act like nothing affects her and play it cool. She never gets this worked up around women. Women get worked up around her.

"Interesting choice." Are the first words that fall from Brittany's lips in address to Santana. Of course she's talking about the Ford GT that was hand delivered to her, but now that she thinks about it there are definitely a few more things that statement could be applied to.

There's a few seconds of silence and Brittany becomes curious if Santana even heard her. She glances up to see a perfectly maintained eyebrow lifted a little higher then the plastic glasses on one side of Santana's face.

"I figured you would be one to appreciate the intricacies of what it took to boost her." Santana's tone is casual but fresh. It flows on the breeze like a dandelion waiting to fall. For some reason, Brittany finds herself smiling at both the words and the person from which they came from.

"I don't really know what you just said but I think I agree. Boosting that car, if you were in fact the one to do so, is a pretty stellar accomplishment and despite the fact I'm still on the proverbial fence about you and your crew, that's pretty cool in my book."

Santana cocks her head to the side at Brittany's words before she lifts up her hand and slowly removes her glasses. She studies Brittany for a good long minute as the woman shoves her hands in her loose fitting casual black pants. Even though Brittany is adorned with a simple _This Is Vegas_ black tee and grey Chucks, her hair is tossed up in a messy ponytail, there's definitely something there to admire. It throws Santana off a bit.

"You can be sure that I was the one to boost her. I don't brag about things I don't pull off."

Brittany bobs her head at Santana's reply. Her resolve to hold anger towards this woman is becoming more and more difficult.

"So you boost and race?"

"Just like you. Of course, there are areas I seem to excel at." Santana replies, shrugging her own shoulders as she pops her sunglasses back on her face and leans back against the windshield of her car. Her words spark something in Brittany, and she's suddenly reminded of why she puts so much distance between herself and others. No reason making friends or getting close if everyone is going to be so arrogant and expectant. Besides, she has to remember rule number two. It was the downfall of her father, and look where that got him.

"You may have some skills but I wouldn't say you're like me. I don't go around wearing scandalous short dresses or ridiculously high heels in an area they are sure to get ruined or I'm likely to hurt myself in." Brittany's resentment resurfaces as she considers that Santana isn't someone she should like. She's just another racer bunny who happens to have a few skills and occasionally get lucky in a race.

Santana's demeanor seems to change just as quickly as Brittany's.

"What's your problem? You're all over the place. Are you sure this heat hasn't gone to your head?" She questions as she slides from the hood of her car, not failing to miss the way Brittany watches her every move with unreserved appreciation.

"My problem is that you think you can walk into my shop, my crew, my life and just start spewing off shit like you know what you're talking about. Maybe no one cares that you do things differently where you're from _Destin Barbie. _And if you want to stick around you'd better get that through your pretty little skull."

"You're unbelievable. You know what, don't worry I have to hone my own bitch half the time, I'd rather not deal with yours."

Before Brittany can say anything in reply, Santana makes her way around to the driver's side and easily slips into the car. She starts it up and revs it once in challenge before she shifts and speeds away, leaving a cloud of desert dust in her wake.

Brittany is left seriously irritated, watching those red taillights disappear once again.

#################

Brittany's reluctant to drive the GT back to the shop, seeing as how the reason she's able to drive the car at all is because of an absolutely stubborn to the bone piece of eye candy whose every waking action just grates Brittany to the bone. She hates that she can't get Santana out from under her skin. But Brittany also recognizes that if she drives the GT she has the potential of showing just how much she gives no fucks when she parks the car outside of her shop and then acts like the cars no big deal.

Brittany makes her way to her suite on the bottom floor of the building next to her shop. It resembles a condo type styled living area, complete with a single bedroom, bath and kitchen area. It works for her, and it's close to the cars. She's mumbling and grumbling to herself about a particular Latina she can't seem to shake from her mind as she changes into her running clothes, pulls on her Nike's and heads out the door with her iPod firmly in hand.

Nothing like a good long run to clear her mind of things.

She's jogging down the more secluded section of highway that lines the outskirts of Vegas. It's a good three-mile trek and Brittany is bound and determined to tackle it. She's been feeling less than accomplished as of late, for lack of racing opportunity, and, if she's honest, lack of getting laid. It's a crucial part of Brittany's well-being.

As the asphalt pounds under her feet in tandem with her long and calculated strides, Brittany takes in a deep breath of that dry desert air. One thing that's always been good about living in a desert, it's a good distraction.

Sure, you've got the bright lights and big city life of the strip-which is fine on occasion-but Brittany enjoys the openness that this city provides her. She feels like there's an electrical current humming through her body and amplifying her adrenaline so that every step she takes just makes her feel that much more alive.

It's not until she glances at the surroundings in front of her that she notices she's not the only one out for a midday jog. Brittany finds that she's not at all disappointed that this mystery woman decided to run about the same time as her as she admires the woman's shapely toned ass swaying back in forth with the rhythm of her legs a good twenty feet or so in front of Brittany.

She admires it until she watches the woman veer off to a little roadside stand that's offering an assortment of beverages, tacos, and other fried Mexican foods and notices that the woman she's been admiring is none other than Santana Lopez. Brittany groans aloud as she slows her pace to ease her in line to talk to the woman.

"You have got to be kidding me. Is nothing I do sacred anymore?" She questions out loud, having every intention of Santana hearing her and feeling a little better about herself when she notices that the woman does.

"Brittany?" Santana asks in disbelief and Brittany wants to roll her eyes. This woman is almost insufferable.

"Look I get that you have to hang around the area for a while because your brother messed up, but that doesn't mean you have to trail me every chance you get or that we have to hang out. We're not friends." Brittany once again speaks up as she pays for a water bottle from the vendor and takes a healthy gulp, not minding the way some of the liquid splashes across her heated and parched skin.

She watches as Santana's face contorts into a look of incredulity and the woman scoffs before she crosses her arms over her sports bra covered chest and tilts her hip to the side in a stance of assertion.

"Let's get some things straight. First of all, _you_ were trailing me and second of all, don't flatter yourself Paris, I'm not interested in you. I'm interested in keeping my body in prime shape and this particular stretch of highway reminded me of the paths I ran in Miami. It's therapeutical, and if I'd known you were going to run it too I would have opted out to avoid this particular shit fest."

The words throw Brittany off at first. She hadn't expected Santana to reply with such feistiness, she kind of despises how her body reacts to it, and it pisses her off that she also kind of likes it.

"Maybe you should just try and avoid doing anything that might get in my way in general. Seeing as how you obviously can't handle it." Brittany shouts after Santana as the girl turns and walks in the direction that will lead her back to the shop. She halts in an instant and quickly whirls around to face Brittany; her cheeks tinted an angry color of red, her eyes flashing with an unbridled fury. And then Santana releases her words upon Brittany once again.

"Oh my god, seriously? You need to step the fuck off. Get down off your high horse and stop acting like your precious life is over. You think I want to be in this horrid desert, in a place where no one trusts me or is even being remotely tolerant towards me? You think I want to be running from not only the police who have my brother but also the mob that threatens my crew, my family? You're not the only one around here who doesn't like what's happening. Just grow up and stop having such a mommy/daddy, spoilt child fit." Santana finally snaps.

Unfortunately, her rant was affective up until the point she mentioned the one thing that you don't mention around Brittany Pierce. Her mother. Almost as quickly as Santana spouted off the words, Brittany's face turns crimson in anger and her eyes narrow to slits. She takes a step towards the shorter girl who has the awareness to take a slight step back as she garners the fury brewing in Brittany.

"I could care less about your issues, _princesca_," Brittany starts to say, emphasizing the word with as much disdain as she can before she continues, "the only thing I care about is the fact that you and your crew don't belong here. Seeing as how you've made it very clear that you don't want to be here, then I think it's prime opportunity for you to leave."

"You can't just kick us out. We made an arrangement with your brother and once again I'd like to point out that you don't intimidate me."

"Hunter doesn't run this crew by himself, and I'm pulling my older sibling rights to veto anything he's said to you. And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn what you think about me." Brittany starts to say, trying not to wince at the way her words sound so harsh. Why does she care so much? She doesn't, its just…things.

She sees the look in Santana's eyes that merely suggests she's going to fight this damn thing until her very breath, and Brittany doesn't have the energy nor the patience for that.

She has another way they can settle this all and to prove to this feisty thorn in her side that she's not just sitting high pony just for shits and giggles.

"Unless you think you have the metaphorical balls to best me in a race." Brittany suggests and Santana's own eyes narrow both in intrigue and curiosity. She allows Brittany to continue, because she has Santana's attention.

"One race, like the one we had before, quarter mile. If I win, you and your 'free shit' crew hops the fastest bus back to Miami, and we don't hear from you again" Brittany starts to say, her intolerance practically oozing from her body. She lifts her chin in poised superiority, as if her being whom she says she is gives her more power, more rights, more say than others.

"And if I win?"

Brittany shrugs at Santana's question, in a show that she hasn't really given much thought to that outcome occurring.

"_If_ you win, you can stay and I'll leave you alone but no promises on me being cordial. Besides, you got lucky last time but if there's one thing I hate worse than losing, it's tying, so neither is likely to happen again. Fate's about to lend a hand."

Santana really wishes she could smear that arrogance right off Brittany's pretty little perfect face. One solid right hook to the girl's jaw and that would teach her not to smile so superciliously. Santana has about had it with just how high and mighty Brittany thinks of herself.

"Where?"

Brittany smirks at the rise she's gotten out of Santana.

"Same place as last time. Tonight at midnight. No shows forfeit."

Santana's lip curls in anger at the insinuation.

"I'll be there. I want this over because the sooner I kick your ass the sooner we can stop talking."

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**Tension, tension makes for the best action. And every action causes a reaction...Thanks again y'all.**


	4. Revving Your Engines

**Chapter 4: Revving Your Engines**

"Brittany open the damn door!" A deceivingly small but obscenely affective voice calls through Brittany's closed condo door. Brittany sits, dejectedly, on her couch on the other side of the room. She's been here since her early morning boost and 'meeting' with Hunter where she listened to his needless droning for far longer than should be culturally acceptable. She makes no effort to get up, answer the door, or reply to her friend whom is still actively shouting at her from the other side.

"Brittany Susan Pierce, it's too damn late in the night to be sulking! And don't even think about pretending you're not there, I know you are. I can hear you're heavy breathing on the other side of this door and I command you to open up and let me the buck in right now!"

Her heavy breathing? Well, that's insulting. Brittany manages to roll her eyes at the use of the word 'command'. Seems like there are a lot of people 'commanding' her these days.

First, Hunter decided to re inform Brittany that she was expected to treat their guests with at least a little hospitality. Brittany had, hospitably, turned her nose up at her brother and insisted that if perhaps there were any reason to warrant such action than she would be more than happy to oblige but as it is, there is not and thus she has no desire to be pleasant to anyone who does not wholly deserve it and who is technically invading her turf.

Further, seeing as how Hunter is not indisputably in charge of her, he can kindly piss off and puppies and rainbows and yeah.

There may have been a few more less than courteous words, but details.

There's more incessant pounding on the door. Brittany sighs. She really wishes she had the power to just turn some sounds off every now and again.

"I'm not in the mood Quinn. Now go away!" Brittany finally yells towards the door of her home. She knows her friend will hear her. She's also painfully aware of the fact that even when Quinn does hear her; the woman is not going to give up. She's a stubborn mule and it's not in her nature. Quinn had a baby on her own when she was sixteen after all, and she's always told Brittany that once you do that there's not much of anything in the world that can stop or phase you.

So far, Quinn's proven that to be quite true.

"I'm flattered that you'd think of me like that but seriously, if you don't open this door I'll get Zizes to knock it down."

Brittany's eyes go wide. She definitely doesn't want the muscle of her crew coming around and knocking her doors down. Lauren's got some guns, and that's one set that Brittany's definitely not going to mess with. She bounds from her place on the couch and walks over to the door, undoing the thirty seven locks and pulling the door open just enough to be met with blazing hazel eyes and a flash of blonde pink hair.

"Okay first of all, ew Quinn, you're like a sister to me so I definitely do not think of you like that, ever. And second, don't sic Lauren on me over this. I just want some space." She tells her friend who rolls her eyes in return.

"Which means, of course, from everybody except me." Quinn replies and follows up by her strong-arming her way into Brittany's condo. Really it doesn't take much, Quinn pushes and Brittany, too weak to fight anything right now, takes a few steps back and lets her through. Not before rubbing her temples with the pads of her fingers. Too much stress, she needs something, or rather someone, to relax her.

"If you must come in, fine, but let me sulk in silence." Brittany supplies and watches the way a smirk stretches across Quinn's face triumphantly as she strides in and her floral sundress billows behind her like a regal flag. Her silence lasts about 30 seconds, but that's a record for her. Quinn is domineering and straight to the point. She gets to the couch and spins around to face Brittany who is sluggishly making her way back over to her original seat.

"Hunter says you're being unaccommodating to our new guests."

Brittany sighs again. She had a feeling that Quinn would come to talk to her about this shit.

"Hunter can go screw himself. I don't need to be accommodating to anyone, especially not a couple of hot headed Latino's who think they can come in here and take over things."

"Actually I think that Noah boy is Jewish." Quinn says her nose scrunching a bit, Brittany quirks an eyebrow in the girl's direction as she flops to the couch, "And who's taking over things? I haven't really seen them do much of anything."

"She's just infuriating and so damn precise all the time." Brittany starts to say standing from where she had been perched on the edge of her own couch and throwing her hands in the air.

"Who's she?" Quinn asks curiously, not immediately picking up on the topic of Brittany's rant.

"Always dressed so proper and posh when there's no need for it." Brittany then says.

"Oh right…her." Quinn regards, the light bulb clicking on the fact that Brittany is talking about the resident beauty queen Santana who does seem to wear a lot of ritzy outfits and tight, tight dresses.

"Talking about do this to your car, you should do that, this will work better. And she's everywhere! I mean I just want a fucking second to myself and she's always _right_ there." Brittany exclaims turning to face Quinn again and breathing out a little more frantically. Quinn finds herself smirking in Brittany's direction.

"Do you realize how incredibly smitten kitten you sound right now?"

Brittany pauses from her flailing around on the couch and mumbling incoherent words to turn and look at her best friend's smug looking face. Her eyes narrow in an instant.

The thing about Quinn is that she's got this outward façade where she tries so hard to be perfect and what everyone expects her to be, and when that doesn't work she's cold hard bitch and you had better watch your back because nothing's safe. She's blonde and she's beautiful so she thinks she's likely to get away with murder.

The truth though, Quinn just needs someone to love her.

Or, you know, not give her an inch and let her climb all over you. That's precisely where Brittany comes into the picture.

"You're bat shit crazy Quinn." Brittany says at the same time she feels her face heating up in a flush and she's not entirely sure what's responsible for it. "No way in hell am I anything near smitten about San."

Quinn just laughs a little more. Brittany crosses her arms over her chest and frowns, oblivious as to why her so called friend is being so damn cumbersome and infuriatingly frustrating.

"I've never seen you go on and on about any of the other girls you bring around here. You called her 'San' just now Brittany. Half the time you don't even remember girl's names, let alone what they were wearing before it ends up on your floor. But you remember ever detail of everyday that Santana is involved in. There's something else there and you know it."

"Yeah it's called fed up with her know it all attitude and fancy shmancy looks." Brittany bites right back.

"Do you think maybe its something else altogether?" Quinn interrupts Brittany's current ramble about the way Santana's hair manages to always look so damn perfectly wind blown as it grazes her shoulders or she tucks it bashfully behind her ear. Brittany looks at her friend in confusion.

"How so?"

"I just mean, maybe you're projecting or something?"

Brittany's eyes narrow at her friend's words, knowing Quinn is about to get all philosophical babble or she's going to flat out whack her upside the head. It's either or at this point.

"You're going to have to elaborate Ms. Yale University. Us desert folk don't speak your language." Brittany says in mock accent. Quinn regards her with a frown of contempt.

"What I mean, and like I've already said, Brittany, is that you've never had a problem with any women being around the shop. Usually you'd welcome that kind of thing with wide open arms and an even more open bed," Brittany chuckles at this, she's not going to deny that, "But now Santana comes around and you're getting really whiny and territorial about everything. It reminds me of…when we were younger…you know?"

Quinn's words immediately halt any sort of happy thoughts Brittany may have been having, and bring forth those less than happy ones because she knows precisely what Quinn is referring to.

"This isn't about my parents Quinn." Brittany says firm and without waver. It's her takes no shit and means business voice, and is not to be trifled with. Unless of course you want to get beat down.

"This is about the fact that I haven't gotten laid in two weeks and I'm jonesing for something fine." Brittany then says with a lopsided smirk. Quinn recognizes how it doesn't quite reach blue eyes.

The other woman studies Brittany for a few long seconds, determining the particular mood that her friend is in. Looks like making inappropriate jokes to mask her issues of abandonment and insecurities of never being good enough is in the cards tonight. Quinn knows exactly how to let Brittany deal with her shit.

With a good-humored roll of her eyes, Quinn plops down on the spot on the couch previously vacated by Brittany. She reaches out to the coffee table and picks up the Maxim magazine that was also vacated. With a curious shrug she starts flipping through the pages, not entirely interested but not put off by the pictures she sees either.

She doesn't see the way Brittany has been staring at her in disbelief for the last few seconds. It takes a verbal scoff from Brittany for Quinn to acknowledge her again.

"The sooner you admit you've got it bad for her, the sooner we can get through this Brittany." The hazel-eyed blonde says from her perch on the couch, her eyes not once leaving the pages of the magazine she's now entrapped by. Brittany doesn't have time to listen to this babble anymore. With another outward scoff, she turns from her friend and stomps, quite literally, to her front door.

"Eyes on the prize Pierce!" Quinn calls to her just as Brittany slams her front door behind her own exiting back.

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Although the trip from Brittany's condo to her shop is only about fifteen yards away, give or take a few, she still manages to make the trip and express every known expletive in the book. Somehow, cussing about everything under the sun just makes her feel better about some things.

She just can't believe how insanely wrong Quinn is about…everything. No way in hell is she the least bit infatuated or lovesick over Santana. Sure the woman's attractive and Brittany wouldn't say no to a round, or two (or three), between the sheets with her. But actual pursuance is just crazy talk.

Brittany's so distracted by her non thoughts on Santana that when she enters her shop she doesn't immediately notice the other presence that is taking up space next to Hunter's Mustang. When she does notice, Brittany is quick to speak up to the intruder.

"What the fuck is going on here?" She can be very crass when the situation calls for it. Brittany brandishes a baseball bat from the corner of her shop as she watches the figure she just addressed lift their head from ducking in the engine compartment of the Mustang and turning to face her.

Brittany's a bit surprised to find that ogre of a man Finn standing before her.

"You?" She's surprised to say the least. "Why the hell do I keep finding you in places you shouldn't be?"

There's a reason Brittany didn't trust this guy before, and now her spidey senses are going mucho crazy. Finn wears the same look of utter denseness on his face as he had before while an extra large hand scratches at his head. Brittany's taken back for a brief second by how oddly Finn resembles a Gorilla in that moment.

"I just thought, well, this car is pretty stellar and I wanted to see what the whole thing looked like. Hector and Santana don't let many other people do the behind the scenes work with the cars very often." Finn tells Brittany whose eyebrow doesn't descend from its suspiciously raised place of intrigue.

"I'd say there's probably good reason for that. I don't let anyone in here either, not unless you've earned my trust and made some kind of impression on me, and you sir have done neither so I'd suggest you get the hell out before I show you I can in fact use this bat. I don't care what my brother's told you and the rest of Santana's crew, but I don't tend to follow his rules."

It takes little more than a stern look from Brittany and the slight elevation of her bat for Finn to blink his big slow eyes and shuffle out of the garage, making it a point to walk the farthest away from the bat wielding girl as possible.

When Finn is gone and Brittany feels at ease again in her own shop she tugs her plain white t-shirt up and over her head and tosses it in the corner, leaving her body wrapped in a loose fitting black tank top and grease smudged jeans. The perfect shop clothes if you ask her. She flicks her stereo on and slides the creeper over to the front end of the Mustang.

As the sounds of Amy Winehouse fill up the area of her shop, Brittany slides her body under the car using the creeper and goes about ensuring all the proper bits and pieces are in order so she'll be in prime racing condition for the race set to happen in just a couple hours.

For some reason, she finds it harder than usual to completely faze out the image of a particular set of chocolate brown eyes and pouty red lips, which for some reason unknown to Brittany seem more and more clear to her the longer she works under the car.

################

"We don't really have to do this you know."

It's around midnight and Santana has traveled from wherever she's staying to meet Brittany outside the Pierce shop. Brittany side glances the woman, curious as to why she's suddenly making it a point to mention she's okay if there's not a race.

That just doesn't seem right to Brittany.

"You scared wittle girl?" Brittany's manner is laced with nothing but contempt and dissatisfaction. She doesn't want to win a race by defaulting to forfeit, that's the weak man's victory.

"No I'm not actually. I'm trying to be the rational one here. It's pretty stupid to be doing this in the first place. Supervised racing down a lighted and sectioned strip of road makes sense, this just seems suicidal." Santana tries to reason, but Brittany only heard the word stupid…and she hates that word. You might as well be calling her chicken, and no one calls Brittany chicken.

"Look you'd better suck it up and race or go back home to your papi and mami in Miami and cry to them about your issues. I don't give a shit either way."

Something about the way Santana's face hardens at her words has Brittany regretting them, though she's unsure as to why.

"Fine. Have it your way, but just remember that I thought this was a bad idea."

Brittany chooses not to acknowledge Santana. Instead she climbs into the Mustang and turns the ignition, revving the engine and brining the car to life. She watches, with careful eyes, as Santana climbs into her own car and starts her up. Brittany leads the way to the race area a second later.

#################

They're lined up side by side, cars revving one after the other in a situation that mirrors the one in which they originally first glanced upon each other. Brittany's far more confident this time around as she turns her attention from Santana, who is racing helmetless this time around, and admires the stretch of vacant street in front of her.

"I'm changing the race. Half a mile long now instead. You game?" Brittany inquires as she glances back towards Santana. The woman's features pull tight showing a look similar to one who's been betrayed, but she pulls her lips into a thin line and gives a curt nod.

"Fine." Santana replies and draws her eyes away from Brittany who smirks in victory.

As far as she's concerned, Brittany knows how Santana races now, and she knows the woman doesn't have any other tricks up her sleeve so she has this race in the bag. Brittany also knows this particular track and what's in store for them about three-quarters of the way down. She turns her head back towards the profile of Santana. Her breath catches in her throat momentarily until she remembers who it is she's looking at.

Gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter, Brittany grits her teeth. Damn Quinn and her mind games though, getting into her head and filling it with a bunch of nonsense. Brittany notices the way Santana's eyelashes flutter against her cheek as she blinks, and Brittany doesn't know quite how to describe it, but freaking adorable comes to mind. Before she has the chance to turn her attention away, Santana glances back towards Brittany and their eyes lock. Brittany can tell by the way Santana's eyes grow a little bigger she's slightly surprised to realize Brittany's looking at her, but the way her lips twitch almost imperceptibly tells Brittany she's more than happy about that.

Blue eyes stare just long enough to glimpse the faintest of a deep pink shade, blending smoothly with that caramel skin, appear on the very center of Santana's left cheekbone. It makes Brittany grin smugly and focus back on the road. Oh yeah, she's still got it. This race is cake. Sweet delicious cake served up on a gold plated platter.

She finds herself turning her eyes back to the road and listening for the signal of start of race. Her iPod's plugged into the car's speaker set to count down to a specific song that will let her and Santana know to step on the gas.

When staccato beats begin to drop three seconds later, Brittany slams her foot down on the gas pedal as her left foot eases off the clutch and she launches the Mustang into a tire squealing start. She's very aware of the fact that Santana's Nissan ignites into action beside her and it brings Brittany right back to that first race. Only this time, she's got a little something stashed away that Santana doesn't know about.

As the cars speed down the street inching back and forth for the lead, resembling a pinball machine that can't make up its mind, Brittany takes a moment to glance over at the racer staying in line with her. She's taken back by the way Santana looks so mesmerizing as she's concentrating on the race. Both of her hands are on the wheel expect when she shifts, which Brittany can't help but notice she does that smoothly and flawlessly as well, her lips are pulled into a straight look of concentration, her eyes are open and searching but relaxed. Brittany has to shake herself out of her stupor to refocus on the race.

She holds her breath as they coast over the original quarter mile line, and swears silently as she glimpses the front fender of Santana's Nissan just barely cross it an inch before Hunter's Mustang. It's the first time the entire race that she starts to panic just a little. There is a very real possibility that she's miscalculated and Santana may win.

Its Santana who looks her way first as the slight obstacle Brittany was already aware of comes into view just before the actual half-mile finish line. Brittany spares a glance to brown eyes and gathers a hint of fear in them. She suddenly feels guilty about not warning Santana about the abrupt turn that they both are about three seconds away from coming up on.

She's about to call out something when Santana's car lurches forward just a little with some added coaxing from the tan skinned woman. Brittany's got the inside lane when they hit the curve and is able to watch the way Santana nudges the car into a perfect turn as both cars drift around the sharp corner. As they are straightening up, Brittany notices Santana spare one more look in her direction before she hears the distinct sound of a NOS igniting and she watches the orange car burst forward as two identical flames spill from the dual exhaust pipes.

Brittany kind of has to smile and admire Santana's skill.

She doesn't really have time for that though because the finish line is within sight and she's got one more move to execute.

"Alright Luella, let's give Santana one more trick she won't be expecting." Brittany murmurs to the car just before she reaches to the left of her steering column and flicks a switch she installed only a few days ago. She can hear the muscle cars engine roar as the nitrous oxide releases oxygen and mixes with the fuel in the combustion chamber to spark that added boost. The Mustang is launched full power ahead.

Seconds creep by as if time has stopped. Brittany inches closer and closer towards that finish line, coming more and more in line with Santana racing beside her. At that last second, the Mustang nudges just far enough ahead as the two of them pass the neon green line faded against the asphalt. It's not definitive but Brittany's pretty damn sure she's the victor. All of a sudden, there's something about that that just doesn't feel as satisfying as she thought it would.

Brittany's about to ease off the accelerator when all hell suddenly breaks loose. For a moment, she's cruising down the stretch of street in front of her and the next she knows, there's a loud crack and pop coming from the engine compartment. Fire and smoke explode from the front end of the Mustang and the steering wheel in Brittany's hand jerks erratically.

One second Brittany might have won the biggest race in her life, and the next second she's losing control of it all.

* * *

**I was torn between letting either of them win because theres good reasons and bad reasons for both. But really, just because one girl loses the race, does that really mean she's lost? **


	5. No Right Turn On Red

**Chapter 5: No Right Turn on Red**

_Brittany's about to ease off the accelerator when all hell suddenly breaks loose. For a moment, she's cruising down the stretch of street in front of her and the next she knows, there's a loud crack and pop coming from the engine compartment. Fire and smoke explode from the front end of the Mustang and the steering wheel in Brittany's hand jerks erratically._

_One second Brittany might have won the biggest race in her life, and the next second she's losing control of it all._

In an instant Brittany goes from her happy place and being overcome with that euphoric adrenaline pumping through her veins feeling to watching the hood of Hunter's Mustang come unhinged and fly up to crack against her windshield. She doesn't see the sparks that flicker from the transmission but she does notice the flames that burst to life seconds later. Brittany's quickly aware of the fact that the car is on fire; she's still going really fast, and oh yeah.

She can't see where she's going.

"Shit!" Is the first word out of her mouth, followed closely by, "_Fuuuck_!"

Brittany's instincts tell her to swerve to save her life, her cars on fire and she can't see where she's going, but years of boosting and racing cars tells her the only way she's going to get out of this alive is by not panicking or making any rash decisions. But Brittany has never really been very good at not making rash decisions, which is why she abruptly swerves the car and promptly crashes into a streetlight pole just off the main street.

"Fucking shit." Brittany curses under her breath as she raises her forehead from where it smacked against her steering wheel. She supposes slamming into something is _one_ way to stop an out of control car. The only issues that remain now are that the Mustang's immobile and still on fire.

She's quick to unbuckle her racing seatbelt that's strapped firmly in an x over her shoulders and chest, and scramble to open her door. Brittany hacks and coughs at the smoke that has quickly engulfed the car and her senses and she stumbles from the seat onto the asphalt glancing around in a blurry daze.

Brittany crawls on her hands and knees, oblivious to the nicks and cuts her fingers and knuckles suffer as she struggles over gravel and broken glass. Once she's out of the worst of the smoke and she can finally make out her surroundings she becomes vastly aware of the fact that neither Santana, nor her car, are anywhere in sight. She huffs angrily, though she shouldn't be surprised. She had a feeling that the woman would scram as fast as she could if given the chance.

Only when Brittany pulls herself, tired and painfully, to her feet does she recognize the distinct sound of sirens in the distance. With a groan she balances herself against a pole a few counts down from the one the Mustang is currently wrapped around. She takes deep breaths, trying to maintain her focus and stay conscious, she knows she hit her head a little and is at risk of a concussion. Not to mention all the smoke she's inhaled.

She struggles to calm her erratic breathing as panic begins to seize at her chest the closer the sirens get. For the first time in a long time, Brittany Pierce doesn't know what she's going to do. She can't drive the car away, the fact there are still flames licking from the front end makes that painfully obvious and she wasn't forward thinking enough to tell anyone where she was going or when they should expect her back. Yeah Quinn knows about the race, but not where it went down and not to check in on her if she doesn't show up within the hour.

To top it all of, Brittany becomes very much aware of the fact that she is also lacking her phone. Dammit, she really hates when she forgets the important things. The sirens are getting closer. She knows that the car has to be ditched, it's going to suck to deal with the aftermath of Hunter's reaction to her loosing his car, but there's no way for her to get it out now, and she sure as hell can't stay with it. Brittany takes one more look at the mangled Mustang before she starts limping in the opposite direction. If she can make it to the buildings that line the street a little ways down, she has a better chance of at least hiding from the coppers and buying herself some time to figure things out.

Brittany manages to make it to the edge of the building just as she hears the tire squeal of at least three patrol cars swing around the sharp curve down the block and pull to a screeching stop by the Mustang. She leans her weight against the side of the building, looking just around the edge of it, exhausted and feeling faint as she watches the cops get out of their vehicles and start searching the immediate vicinity.

"Captain! I've got a blood trail!" One of the officers shouts pointing to an area on the sidewalk where Brittany had crawled away from the wreckage; she looks down at her hand and curses when she notices the cuts that crisscross her hands and fingers. The majority of the blood loss has stopped, but she must have lost enough to leave a little trail.

"This is fresh blood. Expand the perimeter boys! This has got to be the work of the Pierce Crew, and the culprit is probably still close to the area. I have my suspicions they are injured and possibly getting weaker by the moment!" Another officer calls out to the rest of the team and Brittany recognizes him as Captain Shuester, the blatantly incompetent local 'leader' of the Vegas Police Department.

Another wave of faintness rolls through Brittany's body and she feels her muscles cramp up and her skin begin to turn clammy. She's not doing so well and she's running out of time. She turns away from the crash scene and slinks further behind the cover of the building, sliding her weak body forward a little while using the brick and mortar as leverage.

She's only moved about eight feet down the alleyway when she hears shouts and footsteps getting closer. Brittany takes a deep breath and prepares to meet the coppers head on, if this is it she's not going down in a weak mess. Just as a gun is being angled around the edge of the building, a soft hand wraps around Brittany's waist and another one is placed over her mouth to muffle the noise that escapes her as she's tugged backwards through a door tucked and hidden in the side of the building.

Brittany watches in disbelief, her back pressed up tightly against her abductors front, small hands still wrapped around her, as the coppers that were only seconds away from discovering her run right past the dark doorway, with a little window to see through, that she's hiding behind without a second thought or glance in her direction.

When she's seemingly calmed down and the main threat has disappeared, the person releases their hold on Brittany and she spins around to face them. She's surprised to find an out of breath and scared eyed Santana staring her down.

She barely mumbles out a "You" before Santana is holding her finger to her lips and whispering for her to follow her while reaching out to take a hold of her hand. Brittany follows dumbly, not entirely sure what's just happened or if she's actually going though this. Because she reckons she could really be passed out on the asphalt dreaming this whole thing up. It's a possibility.

Santana ends up leading her through, what appears to be, a storage warehouse and Brittany finds the pressure on her hand actually grounding and welcoming. She was sure she was dead meat about five seconds ago, or at least jailbait. She shudders at that thought and inadvertently grips Santana's hand tighter. She'll follow the woman anywhere willingly if only for the moment.

They exit through the back of the building which empties into a wide open lot where Brittany immediately spots Santana's orange Nissan parked off to the area closest to the exit. She follows Santana towards the car and finds herself a tad reluctant to disengage from the woman's hand when they reach it. Apparently, it's not such a difficult task for Santana because she does so instantly.

Though, Brittany does notice the way Santana gives her hand a little squeeze before she lets go. The next second they are climbing into Santana's car and the beautiful woman is driving the two of them off from the immediate danger.

They can't go back to the shop, not yet. There's no way for the coppers to actually pin the Mustang and the accident on Brittany or Hunter because the car possessed a stolen VIN number and license plate and was not registered under either of their real names.

That's kind of how things have to run in the boosting business.

While that's a good thing for the crew, and Brittany because it means she can't just get nabbed because she left the car, it's not so much a good thing because it means the cops are more likely to stay around the area longer. It's the only way they could rightfully detain Brittany if they managed to catch her.

So in reality, Brittany could be looking at a long three or four hours in the car with Santana, and she really does want it to be awkward or tense. That kind of stuff will be no good for her already maxed out stress levels. She's thankful when Santana finds a secluded area to park her car, in a little lower road section under an overpass just off the highway.

Here they will be able to watch for coppers and know when the time is safe to come out. Santana puts the car in neutral and cuts the ignition, pulling the parking brake before she leans back in her seat and seemingly relaxes. The motion is followed by a long moment of silence that eventually causes Brittany to squirm. She's not really good with uncomfortable silences, plus she figures she at least owes Santana a thank you.

Clearing her throat, Brittany turns in her seat a little to face Santana.

"So, umm, thanks for coming back to get me."

Santana makes no movement to face Brittany, but there is a distinct fidgeting of her hands that leads Brittany to believe she's probably feeling a little strange about the whole situation as well. Santana finally softly shrugs her right shoulder. It's casual but very meaningful to Brittany.

"Yeah sure. I mean, why wouldn't I?"

Brittany barely catches the last part when Santana uncharacteristically mumbles it just under her breath. Brittany's brow furrows and she licks her lips, she's not sure if it's the words Santana is speaking or just the general presence of the woman that's getting her so flustered but she knows she can feel her heart shaking her ribcage and her palms are getting sweaty.

"I don't know. I guess I just figured that you wouldn't. You didn't have to." Brittany answers, sighing deeply when she considers the truth to the words. If Santana hadn't come back for her, she would have been detained and being taken into custody.

"Look, I know that you don't like me but I'm not the bitch you think I am. I came back for you because I'd never want to see anything shitty like that happen to you." Santana replies finally turning in her seat to face Brittany. She watches carefully as Brittany turns again in her own seat and fully faces her.

"I don't think you're a bitch, okay maybe you have a little bit of a sass issue but I mean who doesn't? The truth is I think you're rea-"

Brittany doesn't get to finish much of the rest of her thought because when she's fully turned and facing Santana, the other woman becomes acutely aware of the injury that plagues Brittany's face in the form of a half inch gash just above her right eye.

"Oh my god, Brittany! Your eye." Santana interrupts Brittany in the middle of her little speech before she reaches out gently and touches the area just shy of the gash. Blue eyes go wide at the proximity of Santana's hand and her face as the woman leans in closer to take a look at the wound, and it doesn't slip by Brittany the way her stomach does a few tumbles at the sound of her name coming out of Santana's glossy rose red lips.

She shrugs over the shiver that runs though her body in an attempt to mask it before discreetly swallowing the lump that's formed in the back of her throat and casually tries to brush off the seriousness of the injury.

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

Santana's right eye quirks in such a manner that Brittany can just tell the woman's calling bullshit on everything she just said. The intensity of the look makes her gulp again. Santana's eyes soften after a few seconds of glancing over Brittany's face. She leans back a little and then turns to reach for something in her backseat.

"It's not nothing Britt. Let me get my first aid kit." Santana calls over her shoulder causing Brittany to inadvertently glance in the direction of the sound and her eyes go wide when she's met with the sight of Santana's very toned and accentuated ass right before her. Santana's wearing loose fitting jeans but her backside still manages to make quite the impression. Brittany forces herself to close her eyes before the other woman notices her admiration and things get really awkward. Then again, maybe things wouldn't get awkward at all.

"Here, scoot the seat back a little." The sound of Santana's voice draws Brittany back and she notices Santana hovering over her center console looking at her expectantly with a first aid kit in her hand. Brittany shakes her head out of the daze and reaches down to adjust the position of the seat, sliding it backwards as far as it will go. She's a tad unprepared for the actions that occur next.

"What are yo-" Brittany utters breathlessly as she watches Santana climb over to her side of the car and place her knees on either side of Brittany's hips, in a sense straddling her lap, before she sets the first aid kit down on the console to her right and braces herself by placing her left hand on Brittany's right shoulder.

"You're gonna have to hold onto me, I'm not as good with my right hand but the seating makes it a little difficult to use my left so I'll have to manage." Santana tells her and Brittany has to repel the sudden urge to moan because damn there's a really fine ass woman practically sitting in her lap telling her to put her hands on her. Brittany's entirely unsure of why her hands are being so awkward, held frozen away from Santana's side like little scared babies. Not to mention the fact that Santana's words are dripping with all kinds of innuendos.

Santana chuckles at Brittany's inability to function before she glancing down at the woman's hands and raising her eyebrow in such a way that it spurs Brittany into action because the next second she's reaching out and placing her hands on Santana's hips. The only response the other woman lets on to is a soft smile before she reaches out to the first aid kit and grabs some antiseptic cleaner and some cotton balls.

"Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?" Brittany questions as she watches Santana douse the cotton ball in the disinfectant solution and reach out to her eye. Santana pauses for a second.

"I don't know, should I? Is your blood dangerous or something?"

Brittany chuckles but shakes her head.

"No, it's not dangerous." She says light heartedly, more than understanding the double meaning behind their whole conversation. Santana smiles and dabs the cotton ball along the trail of dried blood that's crusted on the side of Brittany's wound.

"Ow that stings." Brittany flinches and her grip on Santana's hips tightens momentarily. Santana chuckles.

"Don't be a baby."

Brittany rolls her eyes at that comment and has every intention of retorting but when she focuses again, brown eyes are regarding her with a careful focus. She feels the breath catch in her lungs. Santana smiles again, in such a way that makes Brittany almost positive the woman heard her reaction, before those mesmerizing eyes flicker back up to the gash at Brittany's eye. Santana is careful and meticulous as she cleans the wound.

A few minutes of comfortable silence go by, and Brittany tries to pull her eyes away from admiring and studying the beautiful features of Santana's face but finds that she can't seem to look away, and furthermore, she finds she doesn't really want to.

If you asked her, she'd flat out deny it, but Brittany is starting to wonder if all her hate and anger towards Santana was entirely misplaced. Sure the woman can be infuriatingly difficult, and undeniably hardheaded, but if Brittany's being completely honest those have always been things she's admired in a woman. Plus, it would be ridiculous to dispute the fact that Santana is probably the most attractive woman she's ever laid eyes on.

With her smooth and tan colored skin that looks like coffee with two and a half cups of cream stirred in. Eyes a shade of brown somewhere between dark chocolate and copper, giving them the illusion of being shiny and sparkling. Her eyelashes are thick and long and they brush over the apple of well-rounded cheekbones every time Santana blinks. And her lips? Brittany's staring at them right now and it's a difficult task not leaning in and pressing her own against them. They're round and poised in such a way that makes them so enticing and alluring, practically begging to be kissed.

Brittany feels a soft piece of gauze being placed over the gash above her eye and she glances up to the woman responsible for such tender care. She's a bit surprised to find Santana's face only an inch from her own, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in deep concentration, her eyes locked directly on Brittany in such a way it tells Brittany that Santana has probably been doing it for a while, and she's probably fully aware of the equal staring Brittany herself has been doing.

There's a moment, just a brief one, where Brittany swears she sees Santana glance at her lips, but a second later they're right back to blue eyes.

"There, that should keep out infection and everything but you're likely to have a scar." Santana murmurs and goes to lean back, but Brittany finds herself tightening her hold on the woman's hips and keeping her close for a few seconds longer. She purposefully glances at Santana's lips when she utters out a 'Thank you' and then goes right back to gazing into those deep brown eyes.

Brittany's thumb dips under the material of Santana's top and brushes across her hipbone and she feels the woman shudder in her arms.

"You're really good at patching people up." Brittany speaks soft and quite, her eyes never leaving the brown of Santana's. She watches Santana's throat bob and her heart hammers against her chest at the action.

"Thanks, my uh, my dad was a doctor."

If the way Santana's head bows wasn't a give away, the sadness in her voice would lead Brittany to believe that there's distinct reason why she used the word 'was' rather than 'is'.

"I'm sorry." Brittany whispers, she's never been good at apologies. Apparently, Santana's not very good at taking them because she is suddenly leaning back in Brittany's lap and shuffling to get out. Brittany lets her go, realizing that moment is gone. She's left completely confused to the way her heart is still hammering in her chest right now, she's entirely sure this woman is doing things to her that no one has ever done before.

There are a few beats of silence as Santana settles herself back in her own seat.

"I'm sorry you crashed your car." Santana finally speaks up and Brittany whips her head up to gaze in her direction, almost unsure that she spoke at all. The words properly register in her brain and she gets a bitter taste in her mouth.

She decides there really isn't much she can do about it so she simply shrugs. "Not my car."

She can see the way Santana turns to glance at her out of the corner of her eye. There's a look of confusion pulled across her brow.

"Well I'm sorry you crashed Hunter's car."

Brittany chuckles as she recognizes Santana's sarcastic tone. She knows what the woman's really saying-she's sorry that Brittany had to be in that situation but she's not entirely feeling sorry for Hunter. She thinks that Santana's growing on her a little more second by second.

"Hunter's an asshole, so he kind of deserves it."

Santana bobs her head, whether in agreement or not Brittany's unsure, but she is glad that the silence has disappeared even though she's a tad surprised she's also enjoying talking to Santana.

"You really don't like him do you?" Santana inquires and receives another shrug from Brittany. "He's your brother though."

Brittany sighs at this. She's used to having to explain this part of her life, but that doesn't mean that she ever likes doing it.

"Just because my dad happened to be his sperm donor doesn't make us family. I mean technically it does, but it doesn't mean it feels like it. The only thing we really share besides a father is an interest in racing."

"What about your mom?" Santana knows it's the wrong question to ask before the entire thing even leaves her lips. Brittany immediately tenses in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest and Santana quickly realizes that the woman isn't going to talk about that subject anytime soon so she decides maybe it's time she herself elaborated on some things.

"I get it. Families are shitty sometimes, but you know every once and a while a person can surprise you." Santana starts to say and only when Brittany glances at her in curiosity does she continue, "When Hec and I were little I used to resent him. He just had his twenty-seventh birthday so he's six years older than me. He was always my papa's favorite. His little pride and joy and I despised it." She has a far off look about the whole thing that has Brittany interested. She finds herself turning her attention towards Santana and hoping she continues. Brittany is finding that she desperately wants to know more about this mysterious woman.

"When our parents died in a car accident when I was fifteen, Hec took care of me. I couldn't have asked for a better brother. Most twenty-one year olds would have given up and bailed but Hec stayed around and made sure I got through school and always had food to eat and a roof to sleep under. We got into street racing a little over a year after the accident happened, and somehow everything just clicked for us. It's not a really glamorous way to live, but you know it's the only way we know how. I just wish that he was here to help sort things out."

Santana trails off with the last bit of her sentence in such a way that it makes Brittany want to reach over and pat her arm and tell her it's all going to be okay. But she knows that would be a lie, nothing in their line of work is ever okay and every day is a struggle. Brittany figures it's probably a good thing that they have their crews, their family, and maybe it's a good thing they kind of have each other now too. Maybe?

She's about to speak up and say something, to offer something, anything. She's never really been the sentimental type but she's quickly realizing that maybe she doesn't have to be so guarded around Santana. That's definitely a surprise to her. Unfortunately, her chance is interrupted.

"I think I just saw the last of the coppers abandon the area. The tow truck already took away the Mustang. It's probably safe to head back now." Santana speaks up, her voice a little strained and edgy sounding. Brittany furrows her eyebrows in the woman's direction but nods her head in consent. It's probably best they got back anyway, it's not like they could stay out here forever.

###################

Santana pulls the Nissan into the area right out side Brittany's shop a good fifteen silent minutes later. It's well past three a.m. in the morning, but strangely Brittany doesn't feel tired at all. There's another little moment of silence before she hears Santana take a deep breath and watches her turn to face her.

"I'm really sorry for all the shit trouble we may have caused you and even though you were kind of a royal bitch to me for most of the time here I'm grateful that we had somewhere to stay, if only for a little while. I'll inform my crew we're going to be heading out, we should be gone by tomorrow afternoon." Santana says solemnly and turns to exit the car.

Suddenly Brittany starts panicking. She realizes that Santana is admitting that she lost the race and is adhering to the bet they made before the whole thing went down. But that was back when Brittany was angry and confused about her emotions towards the Latina woman. That was before Brittany realized that maybe even if Santana can be upfront and straightforward about things, and really rude to some people, she's actually got a really big heart and she cares. It's not often that someone would help out a rival racer when they didn't have to, and if Brittany's being honest with herself about things she has to admit that Santana saved a lot more than her pride tonight.

If Santana hadn't come back and saved her, she'd likely be in jail right now waiting arraignment on charges to long to list but ones that would almost certainly put her in prison for a long time. Brittany suddenly realizes that she's not ready to let Santana walk out of her life, not when she's maybe finally warming up to the idea of having her around in it. There still appears to be a lot of things Brittany needs to learn before she can truly write Santana off, besides she can't deny that she enjoys looking at the woman.

Maybe there will be room for something else later on? If Brittany thinks about it, it was probably fate's hand that Santana came into her life when she did.

"Wait!" Brittany finds herself shouting as she finally scrambles out of the car and walks in the direction that Santana has gone. The other woman stops instantly in her tracks and turns around to face an approaching Brittany.

"The race wasn't actually definitive, I mean there was definitely something wrong with the car so who's to say that it didn't affect the race. Besides that, there weren't any witnesses and I like to win fair and square."

Her words should be considered brass, even rude, but somehow or another, Santana picks up on the underlying kindness in Brittany's tone. It makes her heart flutter in her chest, maybe she wasn't wrong about the woman after all.

"Are you saying that-"

"We'll just have to have a rematch. Sometime when I can get a new and properly working car and there's no room for error. Until then, you and your crew are free to stay." Brittany interrupts Santana before she can even finish her sentence, but she avoids eye contact like it will be the death of her.

Santana smiles, she recognizes this type of play when it happens. She nods, silently accepting Brittany's kindness and offering her an unspoken thank you. She turns on her heel and starts to walk away but is stopped again by a shy voice trailing after her.

"And uh, by they way," Brittany starts to say and when Santana turns around the woman averts her blue eyes to the ground and wrings her hands in front of her body, "Thanks, you know for…that stuff you did back there." She says bashfully before one of her hands shoots to the back of her neck and rubs up and down in a nervous tick. Santana smirks I her direction, which leads to Brittany straightening up and narrowing her eyes right back at Santana. "And if you tell anyone I said that I'll go back to not liking you."

Santana cocks an eyebrow.

"Oh so you like me now?"

With a roll of her eyes and a very pointed go around of not looking directly at Santana for a few seconds she speaks, just barely above a whisper.

"You're tolerable I guess."

Santana smiles and holds her hand out.

"Friends then?"

Brittany regards the woman's hand thoughtfully with careful and methodical interest before she shrugs as if to say 'What the hell, why not' and reaches out to grasp Santana's hand.

"We'll start with acquaintances. I'm still at a yellow light about the whole friendship thing but I figure I at least owe you a chance to change my mind since you helped me out and all."

Santana shakes her head at the fact that Brittany can still be slightly arrogant despite the whole thing they've just been through. But she'll take what she can get. She reaches out and applies firm pressure to Brittany's hand, pulling the woman in so their faces are an inch apart. Brown, mysterious eyes dance all over Brittany's face for a few seconds before a coy grin spreads across her face.

"I think I can handle that, for now. After all, I'm really good at blowing through yellow lights. It's never meant slow down to me; I've always taken it as more of a 'Better speed up before you miss it'. Kind of like the whole 'no right turn on red' thing. Rules like those are meant to be broken." Santana says with a wink before she turns and saunters away from the shop, glancing back only once before she disappears.

Brittany shakes her head but can't fight the smile that spreads across her face. It only disappears when she turns around and comes face to face with Hunter.

"We need to talk." He says, his face void of any kind of emotion. Brittany grits her teeth but nods and reluctantly follows behind her brother, wondering what in the hell it could be about this time.

* * *

**Thanks again all y'all.**


	6. Test Run

**So as you probably know, most of the things you read in this story are fiction (obviously) and the whole attempting to boost cars and what not should not be tried at home. It's illegal, and I don't know much beyond what I read but I know you will go to jail for it, so I warned you not to do it-this is fake stuff I write about, don't go out and try to do it yourself. Think smart and be safe.**

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**Chapter 6: Test Run**

Over the years, Brittany has discovered the strange phenomenon where most people who don't live in Las Vegas are always under the impression that the weather is forever a nice and sunny perfect temperature. They seem to forget the fact that it's technically a desert they are surrounded by. A _desert_.

It's funny to Brittany though, to watch the tourists practically melt on the strip when the sun reaches it's peak in the middle of May and it's over ninety degrees out. It's funny because some people just really don't know how to handle the heat.

What's even funnier, however, is the person that's absolutely dying from heat at the moment is Santana, as she walks alongside Brittany on their quest to find a very specific and special car to boost this bright and sunny afternoon. Normally, one would think that boosting in mid day in the center of the busiest part of the city is asking for it, but it's a fight night tonight so that means way more drunk people in way more areas. The cops are too focused on controlling all the activities leading up to the fight, and trying to prevent riots, that they're less likely to have a lot of force out there paying attention to who's driving what, or who's lurking where. And besides, Brittany's a professional and it's not like she hasn't done this before.

"God this heat is _insane_." Santana speaks up, or rather whines, from Brittany's right side and she cocks her head in the woman's direction, thankful for the set of aviators that cover her eyes. She can't imagine how Santana can be burning up in the outfit, or lack there of, that she's currently sporting. Even Brittany's still curious if Santana's actually wearing top. In fact, she's been wondering the same thing for about the last ten minutes: Is it a top or is it just a bikini that's made to look like a top, except without the, you know, material hanging down to cover up Santana's midsection. Not that Brittany wants that to happen, because she could grill some serious shish kabobs on how hot the woman's abs are. Plus, the ridiculously short skirt Santana has on really leaves nothing to the imagination there. It's a hopeless endeavor for Brittany to try to ignore it all. And she's definitely not passing up a chance to tease the girl relentlessly.

They're acquaintances now, and she has fun pushing Santana's buttons, so why not?

"I thought you were from Miami?" Brittany calls over her shoulder and gives Santana's body another slow up and down moment of admiration, immediately afterwards she takes a moment to glare at the guy that passes them and flashes his own look of admiration in Santana's direction. He must see the thin line of Brittany's lips that suggest he'd better not mess with her, or Santana, because he is quick to avert his eyes from Santana's backside and scramble away drunkenly.

"Just because I grew up in Miami does not mean I am inclined to handle this heat." Santana retorts, taking a moment to fan herself and flick her head in such a manner that her hair flows in the dry air like it were part of a shampoo commercial and then falls perfectly over her shoulders. Brittany's surprised that Santana hasn't caused a traffic jam yet, then again there was that one moment earlier where she heard squealing brakes and screeching tires when Santana dropped her little clutch on the sidewalk and had to bend down to get it. Brittany's not going to lie, her jaw definitely almost dropped to the concrete when that happened (she's only human, okay?)

"But it's hot in Miami." Brittany deadpans.

Santana pauses in her stride and looks up directly into Brittany's eyes, or at least she would be looking directly in them if they weren't covered by really dark and tinted aviators, which thank god for that! After evaluating Brittany for a moment, and deciding that nothing's wrong with her (Brittany assumes), Santana begins her strut down the sidewalk again, pausing only when she reaches Brittany's side.

"I grew up in air conditioned homes and cool air intake cars. I was rarely subjected to the heat. Besides that, we had a beach and an ocean near by when I wanted to take a dip to cool off. So no, I'm not used to this heat yet, and you're just going to have to deal with it." Santana says as she bops Brittany on the nose as she passes, giving a little added wink for good measure. There goes Brittany's jaw again.

"Yes ma'am." Brittany mumbles, taking a deep breath and trying to think of the least sexiest things in the world, like jock straps or Mike in a day dress with silk gloves pulled up to his elbows, as she follows after Santana, she only hopes that the thoughts will be enough, but she's almost positive that they won't be.

##################

"Shit Santana." Brittany groans. "That's really hot."

She immediately pulls her hand back from the burning heat it's just come into contact with, she's a little embarrassed that such a thing could make her flinch, but hey not everyone always brings their A game under every single condition.

"You're the one that said you wanted to touch it."

Brittany frowns at the woman's words, sensing how quickly their entire dialogue is starting to sound like some kind of really badly written porno. Like the one's that happen just before the random, and totally awkward, bald 'plumber' shows up at the strangely half naked woman's house to 'assist' her with her pipe issues. So lame. Not that Brittany watches that kind of porn. Or porn at all. You know what, that's totally off topic.

"I didn't think that touching the handle would burn quite like that." Brittany reiterates and Santana chuckles at the woman's tone before she reaches out in front of her, hand wrapped in the handkerchief she just happened to have tied to the single belt loop on her itty-bitty little short skirt and grips the car doors metal handle. Adjusting the picking tool that's currently sticking out of the key jam, Santana wiggles the tool around a little until she hears the distinct popping sound of an unlocked door. Turning to grin at Brittany in victory she teases the still pouting woman next to her just a little more.

"It's a metal handle Brittany, and the sun is still blazing hot and shining directly on the car and the handle. It's going to burn a little."

Brittany rolls her eyes but shrugs, surprising herself at just how tolerable she's becoming to taking Santana's repartee. Where as before she'd throw harsh words back in her face, now Brittany simply lets it slide and even finds herself smiling slightly in Santana's direction. Still, she doesn't like to be pushed around, not by anyone, ever -even if Santana's the only person she's ever been this nice to outside of Quinn in a very long time.

"Whatever angel face. We'll call it beginners luck for you. But snap snap before someone notices we obviously don't have the keys to this beaut."

"Oh sweetie, I don't need luck when it comes to boosting cars." Santana says with a flourish of her eyelashes that gets Brittany's heart racing before she turns back to the door handle and pulls on it, "Watch and learn."

Before Brittany knows it, Santana is slipping her barely clad ass into the exceptionally slick looking Maserati Granturismo and working what the taller woman quickly realizes is some truly badass car magic. Brittany knows she could have boosted the car, really she could have, but when Hunter told her the car he wanted her to bring in, and to take Santana on the boost to see how capable she is, Brittany couldn't pass up the opportunity to give the feisty woman a chance at showing off her _other _skills.

Call it a test run of sorts if you will. Which, so far, Santana's has been firing 100 percent solid on all cylinders.

Brittany takes a moment to admire the way Santana reaches across the center console to open the glove box. She watches the way that Santana's smooth skin stretches and flexes against her body's movements, how her already short skirt rides up just a little bit higher exposing the edges of some really cute lacy panties. Brittany's throat goes dry and a pulse to make itself known between her legs. She suspects that this woman is going to be the death of her. All she can think of doing is reaching out and feeling if that skin is as soft and smooth as it looks, which Brittany's sure it is but she wouldn't mind testing her theory. How she'd like to bypass this whole boosting the car thing and press her lips to those flexing defined abs only to follow those delicious curves down and past Santana's hips. Just thinking about it really makes Brittany-

"You coming?"

Brittany has to blink herself out of the sex thought filled haze she was just in, and at the tone of Santana's words she subtly clenches her thighs together. When she is more aware of the situation, but not any less keyed up by it, Brittany gives a nod in reply to Santana and runs around to the other side of the car. She waits patiently for Santana to unlock the door but when she reaches to open it, the locks clicks down again. Brittany furrows her eyebrows and looks into the car to see Santana giving her an expectant look.

"Unlock it!"

She hears the lock click open again. The second Brittany reaches for it this time, it locks again and she grumbles under her breath. It's not until she glances in the car and sees Santana snickering in her direction that Brittany puts two and two together and figures out that the Latina woman is doing this all on purpose. After a few choice curses, Brittany gives up on opening the door and chooses instead to cross her arms over her chest and waits. Finally Santana unlocks the door again and when Brittany reaches down to open it, she's actually able to. With a huff she climbs into the car and plops down, still frowning and trying to show her irritation. Santana doesn't immediately start the car and when Brittany finally glances over in her direction she finds the woman sitting there with her eyebrow quirked in waiting.

"That wasn't funny."

"Kind of funny, just a little bit."

Brittany rolls her eyes, "I forgot we were in the fourth grade." She says and Santana merely chuckles before she slides her electric key proxy into the ignition and flips on the electronical switch that's hooked up to her Smartphone. Basically the fake key is hooked up to a set of wires which are plugged into a program on Santana's phone, that she herself designed with the help of her good friend and tech man David, that when programmed correctly will tell the car's computer system to work with the key as if it were the original. It's pretty ingenious actually, and Santana's damn proud of it. Brittany on the other hand is skeptical.

"Are you sure that's going to work?"

Santana just flashes her a look that questions her skepticism and punches a few buttons on the screen of her phone. In the next second, the Maserati roars to life, the deep engine purr the start of car gives shakes the frame a little. Brittany's jaw drops open, she was most certainly not expecting that. She turns to Santana again and watches as the woman locks her phone and places it carefully onto her lap, the wire stretching far enough to keep everything else in place. Santana turns to Brittany with a smug looking grin on her face.

"You were saying?" Brittany shakes her head at the other woman's blazing confidence, hard pressed to deny she doesn't admire it just a little. With a tiny hint of a smile on her face Brittany glances back in Santana's direction.

"Fine, well done princesca, now can we go before the owner comes back to check on his precious beauty?"

"What makes you think this is a man's car? My money's on chick, classy one at that."

Brittany's eyebrow furrows, how that hell would Santana know that? The other woman seems to garner the blonde's confusion. She smirks again and with a light shrug of her shoulders she reaches out and pops open the passenger side glove box, leaving Brittany a little squirmy at just how close Santana's hand gets to her knee. When the compartment pops open Brittany becomes aware of the bottle of Chanel perfume that makes itself visible as well as the glossary of high scale lipsticks akin to those that you would find on the person of some elegant celebrity.

"Huh." Brittany's not going to even deny she's slightly surprised, and maybe just a little impressed. Santana giggles next to her before she presses her foot down on the gas pedal. Suddenly, the Maserati reaches an engine-revving crescendo that sends shivers down both women's spines. Brittany would be embarrassed to say that the sound, and the feeling under her body, seriously turned her on-she'd be embarrassed if it weren't the absolute truth. Santana glances her way again and Brittany swears those penetrating brown eyes glance straight into her soul before they subtly drop a glance to her lips only to move back up to the cat like slant of Brittany's translucent blue eyes. Brittany's mouth quirks at the corner in a distinctly smug smirk because cars and a beautiful woman are her weakness and right now she's completely surrounded by that.

She sits back and lets Santana drive them back to the shop, enjoying the ride so far.

###############

"Can't we just take this chip out and put ours back in?" Mike asks as he hovers over the engine compartment of the Maserati with Brittany, Rory and Joe. Currently they are trying to figure out the best way to erase the EPROM, a computer chip that runs the cars programs and holds all of it's performance and ownership information, and reinitiate it with all of their own info. Essentially, they want to make a clean sweep of it so that if Hunter drives it, since it is supposed to be his new car that will be replacing his long gone Mustang, he can do so without the risk of being tracked down or discovered as fraudulent.

"We can't do thut though Mike. The chip is programmed ta shut down engine systems if ya try ta remove it." Rory speaks up in his thick Irish brogue, one hand held to his head where he scratches away in hopeless thought. Mike frowns at the information. Joe looks back and forth between his counterparts trying get a grasp on exactly what they're all talking about because he's no computer whiz that's for sure. Brittany purses her lips and crosses her arms over her chest contemplating the whole matter. She figured that Hunter would have thought about all this before he sent them out to get this specific car. Then again, maybe he did it all on purpose, he's a big enough asshole to do so.

"So we take it out and we risk shutting down the entire program of the car, but we leave it in and the coppers and original owner have the ability to track us through the chips information. Either way we're pretty much screwed." Brittany elaborates and receives solemn and dejected looks from each member of her crew.

"You could always renovate the chip and program it to respond solely to a specified set of information that you upload on it. Do that and you'd have absolute control of the car and then you can reestablish new ownership information for it as you wish."

Brittany recognizes Santana's voice before she even sees the woman, and then when she does see Santana; her mind instantly blanks for a brief second. Here's a woman who epitomizes sexy in every sense of the word, and who knows how to flaunt the curves of her body and appeal to absolutely anyone, wearing what could be described as the least sexy pair of overhauls ever over a black and white polka dotted strapless bikini top. Her hair falls in waves around her shoulders and perched on her nose are the most adorable pair of square black-rimmed glasses. It doesn't really surprise Brittany that despite the outfit, and the fact that no one else could get away with it, Santana looks sexier than ever and Brittany finds her throat going dry again. That is until she notices that the other three people that are gawking at the woman in the corner like they've never seen a woman before in their lives.

Brittany's eyes narrow at her crewmembers before they flit back to Santana who is now casually leaning against the doorframe entrance to the shop with an amused look on her face. She's obviously very aware of the fact she can do wonders to anyone with any outfit that shows off any part of her body. Damn, this woman's good. Brittany takes a step forward uttering the first words that have been said since Santana spoke what feels like hours ago.

"Let's say for a second that what you're suggesting would work, how would you propose to do that because I don't know if Rory is capable of such a task, merely because he didn't suggest that in the first place."

Santana smiles in Brittany's direction and pushes herself off the wall to stride into the room, sure to put her hands in her overhaul pockets so that her chest pushes out just that little bit more. She takes her sweet time walking over to the rest of the crew and stands right next to Brittany, so close that the taller girl can easily smell the scent that floods her senses the instant it reaches her nose. Almond and vanilla with a touch of fresh rose pedals, Brittany can't think correctly for a minute.

"When you're removing the chip you have to put a replacement in, something that will act as an imitation chip until you can rewrite the other one and plug it back in. Essentially you're using the same chip that's in the car, because once you remove it you can overhaul it with all of your own information. The key is to put in a substitute one that will actually do a decent job of fooling the entire system while you work to refit the original." Santana is speaking words that Brittany has a hard time following. Sure, she spent a few months at MIT a couple years ago when she got out of high school and thought she could escape the life of boosting, but she's never quite done anything as techy as Santana is suggesting. Hell, she's still not even sure Rory is capable of pulling it off.

"And I'm sure that you have just the chip for the job?" Brittany's sure she doesn't have to actually ask the question, but the look on Santana's face suggests that it's precisely what she's waiting for the other woman to do. Sure enough, once the question is asked, a grin spreads across Santana's face and she cranes her upper body around to procure something from her back pocket. That earlier throb between Brittany's legs returns as half of Santana's practically naked body is exposed as she twists her upper body around and Brittany becomes very aware of the fact that the other woman is likely to be panty less at the moment. Being the chivalrous woman that she is, Brittany immediately shoves Rory who falls into Mike who falls into Joe and disrupts their ability to also admire Santana's goodies. The angry looks that they flash her when they finally catch their balance and Santana has turned back around are totally worth it to Brittany.

"It's something that my tech man David and I have been working on for a while now. We just haven't had time to boost the necessary car to try it out on yet." Santana says as she holds out a replica of a car computer chip in her hand to Brittany. The taller woman takes it from her hand and looks it over, giving it a shrug before she hands it to Rory who looks at it, and Santana, in awe before he plugs it in his computer and taps a few buttons.

"This 'ill work Brit'any." He says a moment later with a nod and a childlike grin spreading across his face. "It's a might brilliant Ms. Santana." Rory says as he turns to look at Santana, who smiles thankful in return, and Brittany can tell the boy is about to fanboy and gush all over her some more if given the chance so she steps in (to save Santana from that awkwardness, of course).

"Thanks Rory, how about you work on that with Mike and Joe can run and grab the paint supplies that we'll need for the embellishment we will have to perform on the car if you can properly refit the program chip."

Rory knows better than to argue with his boss, and in his eyes Brittany is the only boss. He also recognizes when the woman is quite obviously, but not in so many words, telling him to back off of Santana. So with a nod to Brittany, Rory turns to Mike and they set about their reprogramming. Mike will handle the mechanics of the job and Rory the technical stuff. Joe also nods to Brittany and scrambles off and out of the garage, barely giving a second look at Santana. Brittany realizes one tiny little flaw in her plan; now she is essentially standing here alone with Santana, and she really has no idea what she wants to say to the other woman.

"Well, good luck with that. I have to go meet up with Puck about something, so if you need any help with anything that's where you can find me." Santana suddenly speaks up and Brittany whips her head in the woman's direction. Brittany tries to ignore the snickers she can hear coming from Mike behind her, while she also desperately attempts to prevent the flush that she can feel starting to spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Damn her fair skin!

She decides not to reply in any manner that would give Santana the satisfaction of knowing she's flustered Brittany, replying with a simple, "Thanks doll, I think we can handle it from here." And receiving a raised eyebrow from Santana in return before the other woman shrugs and turns to leave. Brittany breathes a sigh of relief at _that_ being over. A few seconds later she feels Mike walk over and stand next to her.

"Bet you hate being schooled by a girl." Mike says and Brittany turns to glare at him and Mike shrugs. "First she almost beat you in that first race-"

He's cut off by Brittany interjecting with, "Key word, almost." Which he rolls his eyes at before he continues his thought process.

"But still. Then she beat you in the other mysterious race that you refuse to say anything else about except she won and you wrecked Hunter's car."

"She did win, barely, but she won so that's why I'm letting her stay." Brittany says so quickly she knows it sounds sketchy. She has fears that sometimes she's trying to hard. She's never really been good at lying, and it's especially hard to have had to tell Hunter, and the rest of her crew, that Santana beat her in a race they didn't get to see (even though she didn't) because she didn't want to have to kick the other woman and her crew out. Brittany figures she owes Santana at least a little something still.

"Like I said, I bet you hate being schooled by a girl."

"I am a girl numbnuts so that insult really has no affect on me." Brittany replies with a roll of her eyes as she turns from her friend and picks up a wrench. Mike studies her for a moment before he softly shrugs his shoulders again.

"Then it's something else that you're refusing to talk about. Either way Pierce, just remember your own advice." Mike tells her and turns back to go help Rory complete their side of the project. Brittany huffs at Mike's words, even though she knows he speaks the truth. Her own advice that he's telling her to follow: don't ignore that incessant pull of somebody who is as good at doing the things you love as you are.

And right now, Santana's pulling pretty damn hard.

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**So I was just writing the second scene of the story (the innuendo laden one) when some guys that were sitting in the booth next to me started talking about the really bad porn they had recently watched and I thought it would be funny to joke about it in my story. It was intended to be funny not offensive. Humor me and tell me about it (C what I did thar?) if you feel like it. Regardless, thanks y'all. **


	7. Changing Gears and Delorean Doors

**Even though I can't respond to guest reviews, I appreciate them all the same. To the one guest who was talking about the tumblr post ****(n-i-g-h-t-s. tumblr post/ 41412148840) I say hell yes I am definitely open to writing that for this fic. **

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**Chapter 7: Changing Gears and Delorean Doors**

Brittany's not sure what it is but there's just something about the smell of paint thinner, grease, oil and gasoline mixed together that makes her feel at home. It's kind of strange, this she knows, and probably not at all safe for her body to be inhaling, but whenever she walks into her shop she takes a moment to stop and breath in that intoxicatingly wonderful smell.

Today is no exception, because today Brittany gets to work with all of those items at once. And to top it all off, the Maserati will have a shinny new coat of glossy pearled paint when she's done. There ain't nothing better.

She's hard pressed to admit, but regretful to deny, that Santana's whole proxy chip idea actually worked and Rory was able to overhaul all the cars information replacing it with all the info that they specifically handcrafted precisely for it. Now the car has only one registered owner, and it's Günther Warbler the alias that Hunter most often relies on when dawdling in illegal activities. It was actually Brittany who came up with the name, kind of a stick it to her half brother for being such an ass. Hunter hates it for the most part, and that makes Brittany smile.

"Yo Pierce!" Mike calls from under the chassis of the Maserati that he's currently working on. In fact, they haven't really been working on much in the past day and a half since Brittany and Santana boosted the car. There are apparently a lot of things in the works though.

Brittany turns her attention from the shop stool she's perched on, pulling her hand away from the detail she's painting on the personalized die she purchased the other day. They're not your typical fuzzy dice and Brittany has a particular idea in mind for what she wants to design on them, and where exactly she wants to hang them. She's glancing in the direction of where Mike's voice came from but he doesn't make another peep so Brittany assumes he's waiting for her to come over to him. She hopes down from her stool and strides over to the edge of the creeper that's sticking out from under the car with half of Mike's lower body lying flat on it.

She kicks the edge of the creeper, "What Chang?" And hears a muffled 'ow' before Mike maneuvers himself out from under the car and gives Brittany a pointed glare. She can see a new smudge line of grease painted on the side of his temple, and assumes that's probably where he bumped his head. She feels mildly bad about that, but that's the extent of it. They've had enough back and forth and go around injuries that it's hard to feel too torn up over something so trivial. After her friend and fellow mechanic/booster rubs away the displacement of his fragile pride, Mike stands up and tosses his grease rag over his shoulder before strolling over to his workbench area, signaling for Brittany to follow behind.

"Check it out." He says as he holds out his mechanic exclusive iPad to her after tapping a few buttons on the surface. When Brittany grips the device and takes a look at the screen she becomes immediately awed. Laid out before Brittany's eyes, on the six-inch monitor screen, is a 3-D model of the Maserati they are currently working on. It shows, in detail, every little speck and function the car has undergone as well as the key areas that still need to be touched on.

"Wow, this is all from…"

"Santana's chip yeah and the added modifications you made. Santana said that the modifications were brilliant and she'd never seen anything like them. I'm telling you Pierce, the two of you together are absolutely unstoppable geniuses when it comes to cars." Mike interrupts, the excitement in his voice causing a small thrill to surge through Brittany's own body. She's been told a time or two by her crew how brilliant she is, even when she does such mundane and simply things as reformatting a car's computer chip, but to hear Mike say that Santana, someone wholly out of her crew, said something along the same lines about her, well, that makes her happier than she ever could have imagined.

"That's awesome Mike. You and Rory have done great work, can't wait to see what Joe does with the paint job. I'm not going to lie, it's kinda gonna suck to hand this car over to Hunter." Brittany muses as she gives her friend a pat on the back. He nods in agreement, but they both know that even if Hunter gets this car there's always a nicer, better, faster, sexier one out there for Brittany to get a hold of. Always.

"No Rory, in America the Delorean is not as popular as the Lamborghini."

Brittany and Mike turn their heads towards the direction of a verbal commotion occurring in the far corner where Joe and Rory emerge from the hall and into the shop. Brittany's eyes narrow in curiosity, Mike's remain their skeptical but softly focused self's.

"What the hell?" Brittany mumbles as she and Mike listen closely to the other boy's conversation.

"But the doors are the same, so why wouldn't they be as popular?"

This comment seems to set Mike off, "Whoa now Irish cornbread. You can't just go around saying that Delorean doors are the same as Lambo doors. There's a _difference_."

Brittany rolls her eyes at her friends' antics and walks back over to the lounge couch parked in the corner of the shop. It's big and red, and really comfy. She picks up a her own discarded iPad and flops down on the couch, crossing her jean clad legs at the ankles and propping her back against the armrest for comfort as she listens, albeit not so closely, to the conversation that's happening on the other end of the shop.

"Exactly, thank you Mike. That's what I was trying to tell Rory." Joe speaks up in response to Mike's previous retort to their Irish friend.

"Listen, I know I'm o'Irish and all but what yer saying is pure yoke ta me. Both doors open to the sky and-"

"They open differently! There's a difference!" Joe exclaims, and Brittany can just see the vein that's probably bulging out at his neck in anger. She also wouldn't be surprised if he's hopping back and forth in front of Rory in attempt to be intimidating and forthright in getting his point across.

"Seriously Rory, you can't say that because it's like saying that all women who wear short skirts and lipstick are straight. I think we all know for a fact, you can never base your opinion solely on the way a woman dresses." Brittany can feel Mike's eyes on her for a fraction of a second. "Just like you can't say that a Lambo door is anything like a Delorean door without prefacing the main point that they have different looks, different functions but the same outcome; badass till the end." Mike says and Brittany bobs her head in agreement before she scrunches her face up in disgust at the fact she's actually indulging in this argument. Her eyes return to her monitor.

"Well, how 'bout we ask Brittany?" Rory says next and Brittany's ears perk up but her body deflates, she was hoping that they would all keep her out of this particular conversation. She takes a moment before she turns to face them, and almost chuckles out loud at how expectant and desperate each one is looking at her individually.

"You want to know what I think?" She asks and they all nod eagerly in response. Brittany restrains herself from doing a full circle eye roll, she sets her iPad down on the table, mindful to not exit out of the current bio she's snooping on, before she folds her hands together in front of her lap and looks at the boys with assertion. "I think that _this_ is why you guys can't get girls. You argue over ridiculous things like freaking doors for expensive cars that you'll never have the luxury of owning. If you want to find something that a girl is going to be interested in talking about, you're in the wrong damn place and you should be doing something more productive."

"I don't know. I kind of think talking about cars is sexy."

The tingle that runs down Brittany's spine would be enough indication as to who that voice belongs to if she didn't already recognize the raspy tone that accompanies it. She turns to find Santana leaned against the doorframe, again, and Brittany has to pause a moment to admit to herself that the woman really looks so much better in person. 'High quality' photos that are plastered all over the web, really just don't give Santana the justice she deserves. Brittany clears her throat when she reevaluates the fact that the woman she's been googling (literally) for the last few minutes is now standing before her and looking exceptionally hot.

"You _would_ say that." Brittany jests and Santana smirks but shrugs her shoulder before glancing once more into Brittany's eyes and turning to strut away. Brittany holds back her groan at the way watching Santana's ass in that short tight dress makes her insides turn to mush and her mouth become excessively wet.

"The hotter they are." Brittany hears Mike mumble from his corner as he shakes his head. She turns to find him, and her other two friends, staring at the space in the door that Santana just vacated. Her forehead creases and her eyes narrow as she stands up from the seat and walks determined over to her crewmembers.

"I see the look in your eyes boys, so I'm only going to say this once. Santana is off limits, to all of you." Brittany says pointedly as she steps into their line of sight. She knows it's a dead ringer giveaway that she's possibly kind of thinking that she might have a thing for Santana by telling them not to even think about looking at the woman, but right now Brittany doesn't care. If she doesn't lay the law down now, she'll have a hell of a time trying to do it later, and Brittany's got the itching suspicion that the longer Santana and her crew stay here, the more attention that woman will draw to herself. It's inevitable.

Hot woman tend to have that effect on people.

Before any of the boys can respond to Brittany, another voice interrupts their little tête-à-tête.

"Brittany!" Brittany really needs to remind Quinn to tone it down a notch every now and again. When the shorter woman appears in the doorway she seems surprised at finding Brittany and the three guys standing their looking at her expectantly. She blinks and focuses on Brittany before speaking, this time much softer, "Peyton called, said your stuff was ready and you should come pick it up ohh ten minutes ago."

Brittany's eyes go wide for a second, having not been expecting to hear that name at all for a really long time. In fact hearing the name now, and knowing that she's in a heap of it for neglecting to pick up her specially ordered stuff on time kind of scares the shit out of Brittany. She's quick to flash one more look towards her crew members before she nods in Quinn's direction, earning a confused look in return as Brittany sprints off down the hall, intent on heading over to see Peyton as soon as humanly possible.

She's not anticipating running into the likes of Noah Puckerman and Santana Lopez having a hushed conversation a little ways down the hall, but when she stumbles upon them, while they remain oblivious to her presence, Brittany has a hard time not staying and listening in on their discussion. She has a wicked knack for eavesdropping even when it could land her in hot water, so sue her.

"Puck, I said that's not going to happen." Brittany hears Santana tell the boy as he stands a foot away from her. He huffs in frustration and runs a hand through his shaggy and unkempt Mohawk.

"Santana, I don't think you understand. Hec would understand, we've known each other so long." Puck says, his voice light and sensitive as if his words will cause the frightened flight of a scared little bird and Santana is that bird. Brittany watches as Puck takes a step forward and places one of his hands on Santana's hip. There's something like a red-hot angry flare that billows through Brittany's body when she witnesses that action. She feels her jaw clench as Puck takes another step closer to Santana, and she swears that if he so much as tries to touch her anymore Brittany will have words _and_ fists with him.

Suddenly Brittany becomes aware of the fact that she's gripping the edge of the wall she's peering around so hard her fingertips are becoming numb, and she's thinking about tarnishing the boys everything because he's looking at the girl she finds attractive in a way that Brittany doesn't like. Because that's all it really is, Santana is super fine and Brittany's not about to deny it. They're acquaintances, and technically Puck probably has more right to her than Brittany. Hell, they might even already be dating and Brittany's just completely blowing this out of proportion. But they couldn't be dating. They couldn't. Could they?

Brittany turns her attention back towards the woman she holds a certain liking for and the boy who is inadvertently working his way higher up on her shit list. Brittany finds herself breathing a sigh of relief when Santana brushes Puck's hand off of her side and takes a step back with a shake of her head.

"Hec not being here but still possibly understanding is not a good enough reason. I don't know if there ever will be a good enough reason Noah, and I don't know if I can really apologize to you for it, but I need you to understand that." Brittany notices that when Santana uses her friend's first name, she does it with a particular certainty and undeniable finality. A shiver runs through Brittany's body and she's not entirely sure why. She watches as Puck's head lulls dejectedly and he nods once in defeat.

It's weird how Brittany has never felt more triumphant about a gesture in a conversation that she isn't even involved in. Though the moment is dashed in the next second when Santana turns away from Puck and starts walking back down the hall and directly towards her. Even though she usually wouldn't give two fucks about being caught listening in on someone else's conversation, Brittany starts to panic a little when she realizes that it would be Santana discovering her espionage. Something about that makes Brittany's stomach ping in a very unfamiliar and disheartening way. It's like she feels guilty about it or something.

So instead of running the risk of being caught, Brittany turns around and starts to quickly walk away, hoping that it will appear to Santana like she's on her way somewhere and didn't have any time whatsoever to listen in on any private conversations that may or may not have been happening. She gets about halfway down the hall when she hears her name being called.

"Brittany?" It's surprised and questioning, which Brittany supposes is probably a good sign. Maybe her whole stealth retreat thing worked. She pauses and slowly turns around to face Santana who suddenly looks relieved the moment they lock eyes. A small smile tugs on Santana's lips and Brittany feels a flutter erupt in her chest cavity. She looks momentarily at the area where her heart beats in wonderment, awed by such an occurrence. She's quite positive there has never been anyone in her life ever to evoke such a feeling in her body. It's both equal parts awesome and extremely terrifying.

"Oh hey, San…tana." Brittany fumbles through her greeting to the other woman. She had had her heart set on calling the girl San, it's short and easier and sounds pretty sexy but then she started to wonder if it would be appropriate. Would it be weird to just start using such formal inclinations? They are technically more than just formal with each other, there's that underlying layer of 'ease' that comes with knowing someone on more than a casual run in but not quite intimate friends yet. But does that moment of being suddenly give way to the use of cute little monikers and the shortening of ones name?

Brittany thinks she may be over analyzing the whole thing.

"Hey," Santana replies, and all of Brittany's fears and worries and theories fly right out the window at how casual and easy the woman's reply is, even if the initial greeting is followed by a brief pause of awkward silence. Santana's eyes dart around for a second and Brittany's narrow in curiosity. She looks at the darker skinned girl in question.

"So uh, where are you headed?" The question and tone remain casual, but something about the way a certain hope flashes in Santana's eyes tells Brittany it's anything but. A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips because she becomes aware of the fact that Santana is fishing for a way inside her space and her time and Brittany's actually considering giving it to her.

"I'm on my way out, gotta pick up some stuff from a friend." Is Brittany's reply to Santana's question. It's simple but remains precariously vague. It's just enough information without really giving anything away at all. Santana seems to catch on to this because her own eyes narrow a second later and she steps closer to Brittany before her left eyebrow rises in a high arch.

"Oh? Need any help?"

Brittany can't fight the smile that overcomes her face. She knows it's silly because Santana isn't really flirting with her in the way she'd be okay with her flirting, but she's possibly getting closer and that just causes Brittany to push a little more.

She shrugs, nonchalant to fit her mood "Well, that depends." She says, her eyes flicking up to peer into brown. She knows how bright her eyes are now; they're filled with mischief and merriment because she's in her element. She catches the way that Santana's throat subtly bobs as the other woman swallows.

"On what?" Santana asks, almost breathless.

"It depends on how fast you like to go, and how well you can hold on."

Brittany allows a second for the words to sink into Santana's thought process, she waits long enough for the woman to become exceptionally intrigued before she spins on her heel away from her and walks off towards the back end of the building where her other shop stands. Her special shop. It doesn't surprise her when she hears the soft patter of Santana's sporadic but elegant footfall behind her.

When Brittany walks into her other shop she flicks the light on and hears a gasp, she's not surprised really. If she wasn't aware of the shop, and responsible for furnishing it with about half of the seriously flawless looking street bikes she'd probably be surprised too. She glances over her shoulder to watch the look of astonishment that falls over Santana's face. She smiles a little, thankful her gut feeling lead her this way.

"Are these yours?"

Brittany smiles at the childlike ring Santana's voice has to it; like a kid in a candy store awed by the amount of goodies before her.

"Most of them."

There's another beat of silence as Brittany walks to the locker area and pulls out a jacket and a helmet and turns back to Santana holding them out expectantly. Santana takes them without much preamble, and Brittany is glad that she doesn't appear scared or apprehensive. She turns to the nearest bike, one of her favorites, a Kawasaki Ninja zx-6r with a special chrome yellow and black patterned paint job.

"She's beautiful." The words leave Santana's lips in that same 'in wonder' tone.

"She is." Brittany's eyes aren't looking at the bike in front of her, they avert at the last second when Santana's brown orbs glance up at her. There's a hint of a smile and a little something else that Brittany can't quite make out before Santana's eyes glance briefly towards the door.

"So, Lambo doors versus Delorean doors?"

Brittany's relieved that the tension seems to disappear the instant Santana asks that question.

"Yeah, crazy right? It's just ever since Rory joined our crew he finds some car fact that he is entirely fascinated by but we all think is utterly mundane and he questions it. Sometimes relentlessly. Generally it's just curiosity, but every once and a while he can really push the other guys buttons."

Santana bobs her head in understanding.

"What's your preference?"

The question should not seem like it came out of nowhere, it shouldn't blindside Brittany like a hard left tackle but it does because one second she's all confident and badass and the next second she flailing like a toddler who can't quite walk yet. She recovers quickly though. With a raise of her eyebrow and a suggestive smirk she replies to Santana's question.

"I thought that was obvious." She makes sure to drag her eyes tantalizingly slow down the length of Santana's body before moving them back up in the same fashion.

"Ahh, I see." Santana sees Brittany's call with her own raised eyebrow and raises the wager with a coy close-lipped smile. It does things to the inside of Brittany's chest and stomach that she's not prepared for. To save face and move on from the current quickly escalating situation, Brittany clears her throat.

"Still want to go with?" She questions with a waggle of her eyebrows, turning the mood casual and carefree again. Santana's eyebrow quirks at the cocky challenge Brittany has placed before her, as if she'd give up a chance like this.

"Let's go."

###############

It probably should have been a smooth process, and Brittany likes to believe that it would have been, if her brain hadn't been bumbling about slower than a snail and had kept up with the rest of her body. When she handed Santana the gear and then straddled the bike, turning up the choke and pressing the ignition button, she'd expected the other woman to put the gear on and settle on to the seat behind her. Easy enough right?

Wrong.

Brittany's still not positive if Santana did it on purpose or not, but judging from the way that the woman is holding onto her waist at present, she thinks that perhaps Santana meant to go through so many different, almost unnecessary actions when she mounted the bike behind Brittany some five minutes ago when they were still parked in the shop.

She'd started simple enough, placing one hand on Brittany's shoulder for balance and swinging her leg over the seat of the bike, settling down on the back of it, but that's when things started to get a little less innocent. Santana had been shuffling around behind her for what felt like ages and so Brittany finally reached behind her and grabbed the woman's hands, wrapping them securely around her own waist and drawing Santana's firm body up against the back of her own. She almost passed out when she felt those full breasts press into her back.

She hadn't thought that one through.

And Santana hasn't eased her grip around Brittany's waist since she first latched on. Not that Brittany's really complaining, it's just she doesn't want to crash the bike and explode in a fiery ball of fury because she can't really concentrate on anything but how sensually Santana's thumbs seem to be rubbing circles into her tensed stomach through the cotton material of her thin t-shirt. Not to mention the way Santana's face is pressed almost against Brittany's neck, with the open faced helmet she's wearing, and her warm breath is continuously blanketing the goose bump ridden flesh that's found there.

Brittany's counting down the seconds until she can breathe again. And waiting on the moment when her heart beat returns to normal from insanely erratic. Thankfully, she pulls into her friend's shop about ten minutes after leaving her own. As she parks the bike and cuts the engine, Brittany finds that Santana is still very much holding onto her. She pats the woman's hands and calls over her shoulder.

"We're here princesca," She starts to say and turns to glance over her shoulder, finding herself swallowing a thick lump of something when she comes face to face with a smiling Santana, their faces only an inch apart, "You can get off now." Brittany squeaks out the last part while her eyes dart all over Santana's face and fail to not glance briefly at the woman's full, kissable lips. Lips that quirk into a knowing smile the second Brittany's eyes momentarily glance away from them.

There's a moment. Brittany's never really been a part of any moment like this before, but she's seen it in the movies. One-person stares intently at the other, they're eyes can't remain focused on any one aspect long enough to hint at what's going on, and then suddenly one of them is leaning in. She's not sure whom, but Brittany does know that her own face is getting closer and closer to that of Santana's. She knows that Santana's hands squeeze at her waist and draw their bodies closer.

Brittany's hand falls to Santana's thigh, wrapping around the side of it and anchoring Santana to her body and Brittany to reality. Their lips are a breath away and then they're not. It should be blissful. It should be perfect. Like in the movies, there's a kiss and then fireworks explode in the background and then the couple goes riding off happily ever after into the sunset.

Except, this isn't a movie.

The touch is so fleeting Brittany's not even sure it happens, but one second she's sure they're going to kiss and the next Santana's pulling her face back quicker than Brittany can say "What?" She notices that brown eyes are focused elsewhere, and when Brittany turns to look at where Santana's looking, her heart near drops to her stomach.

Standing before her, wielding a very intimidating wrench and a badass take no shit attitude, is a small but formidable woman in ripped cut offs that expose the never ending length of her legs and a once white t-shirt now stained with grease and lord knows what else pulled tight across her obviously defined midsection and generous amount of breastage. A half sleeve of thorns and an angel in redemption scene cover her right arm. Dirty blonde hair falls in ringlets against the paleness of slim but toned shoulders and piercing hazel eyes stare expectantly at Brittany.

Santana is quick to release Brittany from her hold, slipping out of the hand that's placed against her thigh and Brittany immediately feels the loss. She doesn't quite have time to register that though because the next second, the girl standing outside of the big neon sign that's flashing "Sawyer's Garage" is striding over to Brittany and lifting her hand in one swift motion. The sting is quick but effective, the slap resonates through Brittany's face and her head whips in the other direction following the momentum of the blow.

Brittany's seriously reconsidering coming to see her once a upon a time ago girlfriend, especially since it's obvious that said girl seems to still have hard feelings, but alas, life must go on. She lifts her head and tries to hold it high as her blue eyes stare into and study steeled hazel. She takes a deep breath, she can still feel how tense Santana sits behind her, and she mentally prepares for the road ahead.

"Hello to you too Peyton."

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**I actually listened to my brother and his friend have an argument about Delorean doors and Lamborghini doors once. No joke, it was about as eye rollingly ridiculous as the one I just described (but not quite as awesome). Also, and unfortunately for me, no hot girl came in to interrupt the conversation. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. **


	8. Caution: Hazardous to Touch

**Holy great balls of reviews everyone! You totally blew my mind with the amount of feedback on that last chapter; pressure is on to live up to the hype. I hope I succeed. I'm glad you all liked Biker!Britt, she's pretty hot (as I picture her in my mind since I obviously won't ever get to see the real thing.)**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Caution: Hazardous to Touch**

"That was for being_ you,_ Pierce." The furious hazel-eyed woman seethes through her teeth in an abrupt but extremely feminine voice before turning and strutting back towards the open door of her garage. Brittany can't say that she's stunned, but she also can't say she was exactly expecting _such_ a slap.

"Well, that was quite the welcome." Santana's voice carries a cold edge to it. There's something about it that makes Brittany flinch because now she's kind of second guessing her brilliant decision to bring Santana along for this charade. Granted, it's probably best to get things out in the open, considering they were a breath away from kissing only a moment ago, but that doesn't make the prospect any easier to look forward to.

Brittany doesn't answer Santana for a second, instead favoring to rub the sting of the slap out of her cheek. When she does speak it's with a shrug and carefulness to her tone.

"Yeah, Peyton's always had a bit of a sassy streak."

"Your girlfriend might just be certifiably crazy."

Brittany's head whips around to witness the look on Santana's face that goes with those less than kindly given words. Sure enough, Santana's features are unreadable and void of any emotion, similar to how Brittany's heart feels like at the time being. Something inside of Brittany moves her to correct the wrongness of Santana's previous statement, if only to clear the air.

"Ex-girlfriend actually-"

"And it seems like she's got a little bit of that blood thirsty come at you thing going on. Bang up job picking that one." Santana interrupts before Brittany even has the chance to finish her statement. The woman seems like she's on a rampage to point out the fact that Peyton being anything to Brittany bothers her. She's obviously refusing to hear that Brittany is decidedly not dating the curly haired woman responsible for the red mark etched into her cheek.

"Did I mention she's my ex-girlfriend? As in that's come and gone. And she's not that bad, she's just a little…edgy sometimes. Besides, I'd be careful what you say, she has a gun and she's not afraid to use it. I've been threatened enough with it to know that."

Santana looks like she's going to retort, but instead she changes her mind and goes with something else,

"Well then maybe you deserved the slap." She says as she folds her arms across her chest.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who ever deserves to get slapped?" Brittany defends herself incredulously her hands flailing about a little before they fall limply at her sides and she sighs in defeat, "Maybe I did. But I don't deserve this. Can we just go in and get the stuff and get back to the shop?"

Santana shrugs her shoulders, intent on acting totally and completely unfazed by the whole situation. "I just came along for the ride remember? I swear though, if she tries to hit me I'll punch the bitch."

"Fair enough, though you should know she's got a mean right hook."

Santana waits, anything but the picture of patience as she taps her foot against the broken asphalt she stands on and her arms remain firmly crossed over her chest. Brittany swings her leg over and off the bike to safely dismount it before running her fingers through her hair and pulling it up in a high ponytail. When she's done she glances over her shoulder and inclines her head for Santana to follow her. The woman does, but she makes sure to let out an exasperated huff before doing so.

Brittany walks through the shop door first, and the instant Santana walks through she hears that same abrupt voice from earlier ring out through the shop in a not so hospitable tone.

"Skank can stay at the door B."

Santana blanches. How dare this clearly screwy curly haired woman say such a thing to her.

"Listen here Shirley Temple, I-" Santana begins to say but a strong arm being wrapped around her waist suddenly cuts her off as Brittany speaks up next to her.

"It's okay Peyton, she's cool."

Santana's slightly surprised when she finds this Peyton woman's eyebrows rising in a similar fashion to how her own.

"Is she…?" Peyton asks, but trails off towards the end. Santana's eyes narrow because she thinks she knows where this line of questioning is going and she's not sure she'd like Brittany to be the sole responder.

"She's with my crew now." Brittany says and Santana catches the particular edge in her voice. It's not cold but it's definitely chilly, and it's completely no room for discussion. Peyton takes a moment to study Brittany before her eyes flit over to Santana and give her a once over as well. Santana makes sure to display her very best HBIC sneer, she wants this bitch to know what's what, and that you don't call Santana Lopez no skank. In the process of going about her show of being the one who knows what's up, Santana also gets another idea. She shifts in her position, leaning further into Brittany.

"That's right, _I'm_ with _her_…crew." She says making sure to emphasize a few particular words and lean still further into Brittany. She wants to make sure that Peyton is aware she can't just go around and talk shit about her to her girl. Wait, her girl? No, she means Brittany. Her acquaintance friend Brittany, who's a girl. That's what Santana means. Peyton studies both women for a second before she shrugs like it just doesn't bother her.

"Whatever. Here's your stuff Pierce." She says reaching for a brown paper bag and tossing it, and whatever contents that are contained within it, towards Brittany who catches it with her free hand, her other hand which is still wrapped around Santana's waist, squeezes briefly in an effort to keep her balance. Brittany takes a moment to inspect the merchandise, her hand slipping slightly from its place on Santana's body. Santana takes a moment to fit a glare on Peyton.

"Looks good, thanks P. Sawyer." Brittany says after a few seconds have gone by and she takes a step back, with the intention of having Santana follow her. She's about half way to the shop exit, Santana on her heels, when Peyton's voice calls out behind them.

"Not so fast Pierce, you still owe me two large for that and another three for what you have coming."

Santana watches as Brittany visibly flinches at the other woman's words, undoubtedly not expecting them. She's not shocked when Brittany turns slowly back to face the curly haired blonde, an incredibly sweet but entirely fake smile plastered across her face.

"Aww Pey," The way Brittany says it has Santana clenching her fists at her sides because she knows that the blonde has used that tone before, and she's betting it's led to things that she doesn't want to think about. "Can't you just put it on my tab?" Brittany then asks, still overly sweet and gushing with so much fakeness, Santana's wondering if they didn't magically deposit themselves in some sort of silicone factory.

Santana watches carefully as the hard lines that cover Sawyer's face slowly disappear the longer she's exposed to Brittany's honey sweet pout and pleading big blue eyes. She rolls her eyes and almost scoffs out loud. Who falls for that shit anyway?

"You already owe me a lot Pierce." Santana's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Is this tatted up badass chick really falling for Brittany's little play? What the hell is going on? Santana finds that her head is playing a very extreme game of back and forth as her eyes focus between Brittany and Peyton and then back to Brittany.

"I'll make it up to you." Somehow the words sound like they mean so much more and something pulls at Santana's chest. She clenches her fist at her side again, she's angry and frustrated and she's too damn tired and fed up with things to really think about why. She watches as Peyton's eyebrow quirks in an arch at Brittany's words, but still she seems to fall into the trap that Brittany has set for her.

"I'll hold you to that Pierce. No freebies anymore."

With that Brittany nods and turns to head back towards the garage exit. There's a moment where Santana stands and stares at Peyton, who's own eyes are acutely focused on the retreating Brittany, and she's almost positive either she or the other woman across the shop is about to burn a whole in the wall or something with how intense their stares are. Brittany's voice shakes Santana out of her reserve and she focuses her attention back on blue eyes that regard her with curiosity.

"Ready to go?" Brittany asks and Santana doesn't hesitate to nod. The faster she gets out of this place and away from this unpredictable woman the better. Brittany waits for Santana to fall in step with her and they both walk out of the shop together. Brittany remains close, but her hand placement is respectful, just barely nudging Santana along by resting one hand on her hip. They get to the bike and Brittany steps away from Santana to strap the goodies in the brown paper bag in the little saddle box compartment hanging off the side of the bike.

That's about the time that Santana suddenly becomes curious as to what exactly Brittany just purchased from the unpredictable blonde back in the shop, and whether or not it's legal.

"Are those drugs?"

Brittany glances at Santana with a half humorous half incredulous look. As if to say 'Are you for real serious right now', Santana on the other hand thinks it's a legitimate question. She shrugs to say as much.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see." Brittany replies and receives an eye roll precisely point two seconds later. She chuckles a little; Santana can be incredibly predictable sometimes. She motions towards the bike to signal Santana should get on, the Latina simply crosses her arms over her chest and glares blankly. With a shrug Brittany swings her leg over the bike and straddles the seat, she tilts it up from its resting position and kicks the kickstand back into place. Her feet are steady on both sides of the bike, balancing the machine expertly between her legs. It's heavy but not so much when she's upright like she is, the balance the bike carries by itself makes it a cakewalk to handle.

When everything's looking good and the gear is strapped in and ready, Brittany turns and glances over her shoulder at Santana while she holds out the helmet and gives the woman an expectant look. Santana takes the helmet with a quirked eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be wearing a helmet too?"

Brittany smiles at the question but gives a roundabout answer, "You weren't too concerned with my head on the ride over here."

"Maybe I just thought that your exceptionally large ego would help cushion any blows."

"Aww, are you worried about me?" She's having a lot of fun seeing how far she can push Santana. The girl just looks so adorable when she's squirming.

Santana shrugs her shoulder as she gets the helmet strapped on. She brushes a few strands of invisible dirt from her jeans before her brown eyes gaze back up into blue.

"Not so much you as I am me, since I'll be riding with you it's about my own safety you know."

Brittany rolls her eyes in good humor. Santana _would_ say something like that.

"Well hop on up sweet lady lips. You rode with me once, guess you'll just have to trust me." She says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"You're really stubborn. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"Yeah every single person I've ever met, I kind of have a record going so I'm glad you said something. Now chop chop, we don't have all day and you'll probably face the wrath of Peyton if you stay here any longer. It's kind of obvious that she really doesn't like you."

"Not my fault she's certifiable."

Brittany chuckles, "It is kind of hot though. Makes me think about why we got together in the first place. Sure there's a lot of fighting and yelling and screaming at each other but then the make up s-"

"Could we not discuss that right now? I'm already going to have a hard time riding on a bike with you, I certainly don't need any images of you _and_ some other girl naked in my head." Santana interrupts her face pulling into a look of disgust. Brittany quirks and eyebrow and a smirk tug at the corner of her lips.

"_And_ another girl? As in you already have naked pictures of me in your head to begin with?"

Santana's eyes go wide for a second before a faint but distinct pink tinges her cheeks. She narrows her eyes.

"You're unbelievable. If I get on this damn bike with you just shut up and drive?"

Brittany doesn't try very hard to suppress her laughter.

"As long as you hold on _really _tight. Wouldn't want you to _come _off too soon."

Santana groans in frustration at the other woman's words. With a flourish she jerks the helmet on over her hair and stomps the four feet over to the bike. Brittany's smiling at her knowingly the whole way and even makes it a point to pat the spot behind her to signify Santana can hop on up. The other woman huffs and crosses her arms but slinks over to the bike and swings her leg over it to straddle the space directly behind Brittany.

Brittany's smirking the whole time, and she faces forward again for a second to press the ignition and engage the bike, which roars to life beneath her and rumbles with the vibrations of the powerful engine. When she adjusts her position in the seat, sitting upright with her right leg flat on the ground keeping the bike balanced and upright, and her left at the gear shift ready to press it down into first, Brittany notices that Santana is still sitting behind her with her arms folded across her chest like a stubborn mule who refuses to move.

"Better hold on princesca, it's going to be a little bumpy." Brittany calls over her shoulder, turning her eyes to glance at Santana. Brown eyes narrow in challenge to Brittany's words, but Santana makes no move to hold on. Brittany shrugs her shoulder as if it doesn't matter and shifts the bike into first. She makes it a point to torque the throttle a little more than necessary, launching the bike forward more quickly than normal and smirks to herself when Santana gives a little squeal behind her and quickly wraps her tan arms tightly around her waist.

With that, Brittany rides off into the evening. She tries to ignore the fact that the sun is setting off in the distance of the Nevada dessert.

##################

The ride back to the shop is interesting to say the least. Brittany made it a point to go a little faster on straight a ways and lean a little further on corners causing Santana to become practically squished to her back from holding on so tightly. It seemed like a great plan at the time, but now all that's done for Brittany is seriously amp her up with the way Santana's body feels pressed so closely to her own.

She brings to bike to a stop outside the shop entrance and glances over her shoulder to see the top part of Santana's helmet, she can feel the girls cheek pressed somewhere against her back. As Brittany starts to sit up straight there's suddenly a raspy soft voice sighing in her ear as one of Santana's hands shifts from its position around her waist and reaches out to brush along Brittany's inner left forearm.

"I never noticed that before." Her fingertips brush over the black and red colors inked into the skin.

Brittany tries not to shiver at the way the cool breath released with Santana's words and the feeling of her light but intense touch travels through her body like an electric current. The intensity of it is almost frightening, and she damn near falls off her bike. With a thick swallow, attempting to mask any sort of shakiness that might be apparent in her voice, Brittany gives her reply to Santana.

"Maybe you just weren't looking close enough."

Brittany's surprised that the words come out sounding a lot more frank than she intended, she's not sure if she's upset that Santana just noticed now or mad that she noticed at all. Does it even matter? She feels Santana shift around in the seat behind her as the woman puts some distance between their bodies. Brittany turns to look over her shoulder and her breath catches in her throat as she watches Santana remove her helmet and shake her hair out glamorously in the nonexistent wind.

It's pretty damn sexy. Like Maxim photoshoot in a cute little bikini sexy. God, now Brittany's thinking about Santana in a bikini, a red one, and this has to stop.

"Well maybe if you'd open yourself up a little more to me, I'd notice things faster." Santana retorts and Brittany is drawn back from her fantasies by the words. She snaps out of her thoughts and fixes a glare on Santana, talking openly is not an option for Brittany; she doesn't care how attractive the girl wanting to talk in question is. With a huff Brittany cuts the engine and sets the kickstand down, swinging her leg up and off the bike and pushing a few loose bangs out of her eyes as she steps away from the bike a little.

She has a retort bound and ready to throw at Santana but when she turns to give it to the woman all she finds is that smoldering mysterious look that's glinting in Santana's eyes, it stops any words she would have said dead in their tracks. Santana glancing up through her thick lashes, averting her eyes for a moment from Brittany's forearm to gaze deep into her eyes.

"What's it mean?" She asks and Brittany is thrown off for a moment before her brain catches up with the thoughts and feelings that our pouring out of her heart and she realizes Santana's changed the subject and is easing into a different line of questioning. One that Brittany thinks she'll be able to answer.

"It's the symbol for fate. It's been my family's sign for years." Brittany replies while absentmindedly brushing her fingers across the tattoo as she speaks. Santana nods along to Brittany's words and slowly reaches her own hand back out so her own fingertips stroke over the colored skin. The action sends a tremor through Brittany's body, and it's not only because Santana looked really good stretching out from the bike that she's still sitting on.

"Your dad came up with it?" Santana asks. It's not said in a forceful or demanding way, and Brittany appreciates the effort. She nods her response.

"Yeah, shortly after he…after he met my mom." The last part of her sentence trails off in such a way that it makes Santana suspect that Brittany wants to say more, but she's still not quite sure how to start or where to begin. Santana doesn't want to push Brittany into anything.

"Hec came up with the name for us. Said everyone deserves the chance to change his or her fate. Free will is his motto." She chooses to say instead and receives a chuckle from Brittany.

"It's funny how our crew's are complete opposites yet here we are functioning together." She says and garners a playful eye roll from Santana.

"Well, I don't know how well we're all getting along but maybe if you hadn't been so stubborn things could have progressed nicer, faster and earlier."

"Me, stubborn?" Brittany scoffs, "Please, have you watched yourself lately. You're so stubborn that I bet if I told you to get off this bike right now you'd flat out refuse just because you wouldn't want to give into me." She finishes raising a challenging eyebrow in Santana's direction.

"Well now I just don't want to get off because I don't know what you might do to me when I do."

"So regardless of what I say it doesn't matter and you're not going to get off the bike no matter what?"

Santana shakes her head 'no' and a grin breaks out across Brittany's face.

"Okay, whatever you say angel." She says before pointedly turning and walking away from Santana, leaving the woman sitting there on the bike. It takes about two minutes of Santana watching Brittany patter around in the bike shop, staining her white t-shirt with grease and smudging her cheek and neck with the black goo. With a small huff of frustration, Santana dismounts the bike and stalks over to where Brittany is bent over the handles of a bike, stripping away the panels to get to the chassis.

After removing the jacket that was leant to her by Brittany, Santana grabs at the hem of her top and tugs it up and over her head. Brittany's jaw drops as she notices the top being tugged over Santana's head as she glances towards the woman out of the corner of her eye. A firm sculpted tan stomach is on display for long enough to make Brittany's mouth water at the sight before the undershirt that Santana is wearing covers the skin again. Brittany has to quickly avert her eyes again the closer Santana comes over to her, swallowing the lump in her throat that's formed during these last few sexually charged moments.

Brittany's eyebrows rise as Santana comes to stand right in front of her. There's a knowing look in both of their eyes but Santana speaks up first.

"I didn't get off the bike for any other reason then to wipe that grease off your face because staring at it is driving me crazy." She says reaching up with her recently removed shirt to rub gently at the smudges along Brittany's face. Brittany tries, and fails miserably, at keeping her heart from fluttering in her chest at the fact that no one has ever been this kind to her and because she catches the double meaning behind Santana's words; the fact that the other woman had spent more than a few cursory seconds staring at her face. A smile graces pink lips as Brittany's eyes lock on the concentrated ones of Santana's.

"What?" The other woman asks, not removing her eyes from the task at hand but allowing a small smile to tug at her own lips. Brittany simply chuckles but shakes her head.

"Nothing."

Santana's eyes narrow, "Seriously Brittany, what?" She questions again, this time a little more demanding. Brittany just shrugs in reply.

"I was just thinking about how I called it. You didn't even last on that bike seat for more than three minutes."

Santana's hand pauses from its action but she shakes her head and laughs quietly to herself.

"I said I moved because you were getting yourself all dirty."

Brittany's eyebrows rise.

"Oh? That sounds intriguing." She says suggestively.

"God you're awful. You seriously have a one track mind."

Brittany chuckles again, "What can I say, I'm a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it."

"Uhh huh, and what's that?" Santana asks, stepping back from Brittany as she finishes her task. Her arms automatically fold across her chest and her hip cocks to the side. It just makes Brittany smirk wider as her eyes trail slowly up and down the other woman's body, subtleties completely thrown out the window. Brittany loves to dance, but it's about time this dance became a little less roundabout.

"That's for me to know but you'll probably figure it out sometime soon."

The tone is laced with implications and Santana tries really hard not to trip into them. She swallows through the dryness coating her throat and shifts her eyes to a row of bikes next to her. Clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair she comments on them.

"These are really nice bikes."

Brittany walks over to Santana and stands by her side, surveying the bikes in front of her but not missing the opportunity to observe the woman beside her. If she's being honest, there's quite a bit to admire.

"Yeah, they are. Sometimes I have a hard time deciding ones I prefer more, bikes or cars."

Santana shoots her a look of disbelief, as if the very idea of deciding between the two is utterly absurd.

"That's easy-a car will get you further and get you there faster without the added risk of injury."

"But I don't think it's that simple. Bikes are more dangerous but they're also badass and sexy and mysterious in ways you could never imagine. Sure they run the risk of injury, but what's life without a little thrill?"

Santana's eyes regard Brittany in a very focused stare. Almost as if she's looking right through the woman and reading all of her thoughts, it makes Brittany shiver a little under the excitement of it all.

"You're not really talking much about bikes and cars anymore are you?"

Brittany chuckles a little at Santana's question, it stopped amazing her how canny the other woman is a while ago. Probably around the time she realized Santana is more interesting than bitch, and she became more of a fascination than a hindrance. She takes a step towards one of the bikes, a Suzuki GSX-R 1000 that sports around 150 hp and top speeds of about 179 mph. In other words, it's a big fast bike. Brittany turns back around and nods Santana over. When the woman steps up to the bike, Brittany pats the seat.

"Hop on."

Santana's eyes go wide and skeptical. She's never really been a big bike person, not that she doesn't admire them it's more or less she's not as efficient with them as she is a car so she prefers to keep her distance. Brittany can see her hesitation.

"You should know what it feels like, just in case." She encourages the woman who takes a long moment to analyze her and her words before she steps towards the bike and throws her leg over the seat to straddle the frame and rest comfortably on the bike. Brittany smiles a little at how naturally it all seems to come to Santana. She takes a step closer to the bike, one hand on the left handle and reaches around Santana to press the ignition, her chest pressing into the other woman's back for a brief second.

Remaining essentially cradling Santana between her arms as one hand keeps a firm grip on the left handle and the other torques the throttle, Brittany makes the bike rumble beneath Santana's body and notes how a shiver runs over the exposed tan skin of the other woman's body. Brittany's lips are close to Santana's ear when she speaks in a hushed whisper, just loud enough for the other woman to hear over the rev of the bike's engine.

"Pretty amazing isn't it."

Santana is too wound up, unsure as to how to process being surrounded by Brittany like she is and tumbling through a void of emotions trying to figure out why she likes the feeling so much. The bike between her legs and Brittany subtly pressed into her back, whispering in her ear is all kinds of intense that Santana's not sure how to deal with. She merely has the capacity to nod in response to the blonde woman.

Brittany leans back a little, and shifts around the bike so she's standing on the right side, a more clear view of Santana and her red cheek tinted face visible to her.

"You look incredibly hot." The words come out before Brittany can even process and filter them in her mind. She can't say she regrets saying them, and judging by the way Santana's eyes flash to hers with a look of approval make saying them a little easier, but still Brittany's not usually one to loose all of her game in the spur of the moment. She's so thrown off by Santana thought that half the time she can't catch her bearings.

"You can't say things like that." Santana murmurs in return, her eyes dropping slightly from where they had been focused on Brittany's face. She shakes her head slightly as if shaking a thought from her mind.

"Why not? It's the truth."

Santana's eyes are squeezed closed when she raises her head to Brittany's level again, and when they slowly flutter open there's a look of extreme restraint held behind the deep chocolate brown.

"Because, I'll start to think you've change but I still think that's a ways in the works. Besides, you say things like that and I just might start to believe you." The last part comes out in a whisper and Brittany's drawn to the way Santana bites her bottom lip between her pearly white teeth with the words. She leans a little closer to Santana, the whole bike revving completely forgotten. Her eyes are locked on plump lips but they flit up to gaze at brown.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing." She's leaning in further and further and Santana doesn't seem to be protesting. But at the last second, Santana turns her head away from Brittany and pink lips connect with a warmed tan cheek instead of their original destination.

"We shouldn't." Santana mumbles and Brittany's really fighting to keep her frustration in.

"Why not?" She feels like she's been asking that a lot lately.

"There are things you still don't know about me." Is Santana's reply as she shifts away from Brittany's proximity, clearing the bike, which causes Brittany's hand to fall from its position on the backside of the seat. Her hand slips and briefly touches the overheated metal surrounding the previously high revved engine. She hisses as hot metal burns her skin and jerks her hand back.

She probably should have been expecting that; there's caution hazardous to touch signs all over the bike.

Santana takes a step back towards Brittany is concern and gently grips the pale hand between her own. The cool gentleness of Santana's touch makes Brittany instantly forget the pain, and as her eyes gaze up and lock with the other woman's again a jolt goes through her body. She's on the verge of trying again when she suddenly spots Quinn walking in their direction with a very determined look on her face. The shorter blonde reaches Brittany and Santana and gives a cursory glance towards the latter before looking straight at her taller blonde friend.

"There's something going down in the meeting room, Hunter's gathering people, says it's urgent and that you should be there." Quinn speaks formally and without care for pleasantries as she hooks her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the main building. Brittany quirks an eyebrow at her friend's words, she finds it funny that she would feel it necessary to elaborate that Hunter finds something urgent. She's hard pressed finding a time when anything Hunter thought wasn't _urgent_. Load of fucking bullshit.

Brittany turns her eyes to Santana, momentarily surprise to find the woman staring at her in question as if waiting to see how she will proceed. Brittany shrugs and turns back to Quinn.

"Whatever, I'm pretty much done with thinking that anything that comes out of Hunter's mouth is going to be worth my time, but I'll give him five minutes. It had better not be a waste of my time." Brittany tells her friend who shrugs as if bored with the world before she spins around and walks off towards the main building. Brittany glances in Santana's direction again.

"Suppose you should probably be here for whatever my dim-witted brother has to say. He has a knack for being extremely boring though."

Santana's lips remain pressed in a straight tight line, her eyes not shifting or adjusting in anyway that would hint some form of amusement or agreement. Brittany shakes her head slightly at the woman's stubbornness, funny how the pot calls the kettle black sometimes. Funny how things can go so hot to cold between them sometimes. She turns away from Santana and starts heading off after Quinn, smirking a little when she hears the Latina shuffling behind her a few seconds later.

################

Brittany's not surprised to find that Hunter stands at the head of the table of the conference room, poised like some hotshot CEO of some Fortune 500 company that's going to rally the troops and start a revolution with just a few well-spoken words. She's quick to spot Puck in the room as well as Mike, Finn, Quinn, and Santana's other crewmember whom Brittany has not met yet. When she walks in, the first thing she sees is blue eyes lock on her own. The intensity of the stare is intimidating, and if Brittany didn't know any better, or wasn't used to similar attention on a regular basis, she might be a little scared.

"You must be Brittany," The dark haired, blue-eyed member of Santana's crew says holding out his hand cordially as he takes a step towards Brittany. Her eyebrow rises at his forwardness, again she's used to it but that doesn't mean she has to like it. She reaches out and hesitantly takes a hold of the man's hand.

"Yeah that's me."

"Cooper Anderson, pleasure to met you." The man says with a cockily coy smirk as he grasps Brittany's hand and turns it over to bring the smooth backside to his lips. The moment Brittany realizes what he's about to do she starts to jerk her hand away, but she doesn't have to pull it away far because the neck second Santana is gripping Cooper by his ear and dragging him out into the hall. Brittany looks, mesmerized, at the door that Santana just exited, as she hears muffled shouting and what she thinks is Spanish curses. Who knows, except that it sounds really hot coming from Santana's mouth. There's a few whacking noises and some grumbled Ow's before Brittany makes out any comprehendible words.

"Okay, okay! Eyes averted, got it. I'll keep my hands to myself."

Brittany's not sure, but she's also not an idiot, and that sounded a lot like Cooper replying to something Santana said to him. A little smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth when she considers the situation. Apparently, even Santana Lopez is not too high and mighty to ward of advances by her crewmembers towards her new acquaintances. Friends? Whatever the case may be, when Cooper walks back into the conference rubbing the back of his head, and followed closely by a triumphant looking Santana, Brittany inwardly chuckles just a little more.

Unfortunately, that's when Hunter decides to get down to business.

"Reports have been coming in about the Adrenaline Crew being spotted in the area."

Santana immediately tenses up the moment Hunter speaks those words. Brittany, who stands a few inches to the left of her, notices and turns to offer her the questioning look of a raised eyebrow. When Santana doesn't say anything, Brittany decides to speak up.

"That's Jesse St. James gang, the one from Miami that's tracking down Santana and Hector's crew?"

Hunter nods, Santana visible tenses again.

"That's right sis. St. James and his crew are unaware of what Santana and her crew looks like. He simply knows that they fled from Miami and are rumored to have come here."

Brittany's a whole lot of confused, "What does that mean for us exactly? If he doesn't know why would we bother or mess with him?"

"Maybe Santana can tell you a little about that."

Brittany head whips from Hunter's face to Santana's, a look of complete confusion crossing her face. Santana's throat twitches a little as she swallows a lump caught in her throat.

"Puck and I were talking, we were trying to figure out a way to get Jesse's crew off our backs and lead the cops right to them and have them take the fall for any of the illegal activities we've participated in." Santana explains, a nervous aura all around her. She can't meet Brittany's eyes.

Brittany's not sure what to think. She thinks she has Santana all figured out and then she goes and does something like this-plans some huge operation with Brittany's incompetent half brother, without telling her or consulting her about it.

"Well what the hell do we have to do with that?" Brittany asks not missing the way Santana's eyes snap to hers with a look of confusion and hurt furrowing her brow.

"We asked Hunter if your crew would be willing to help." Puck speaks up from his side of the table. Brittany disregards most of what he says and turns to look at Santana again, waiting until she lifts her eyes to met blue.

"And what do you want to do?"

Santana's eyes narrow in resolution and focused determination. Her fists clench tight at her sides.

"I want to take these sons of bitches down for what they did to Hec," She starts to say and after a deep breath and a look that tells Brittany the woman's seriously swallowing her pride, worries and insecurities, her brown eyes rise and look directly into Brittany's.

"And I need your help doing it. I want your help Brittany."

Typically, it would take a little more deliberation, perhaps some particular persuasion, for Brittany to have any sort of resolute answer in the span of five seconds, but there's just something about Santana and the way those damn eyes gaze into her own. Brittany was a goner the second they locked on hers.

"Let's do it then. Let's take down Jesse's crew. While we're at it, I think I have a plan."

* * *

**Thanks again for the overwhelming and AWESOME response and you're always welcome to PM me or ask me on tumblr (lonegambit). I enjoy talking to you all. Catch you next time.**


	9. Set High Beams to Low

**Chapter 9: Set High Beams to Low**

Everyone's gathered around the conference table, watching Brittany and preparing to listen to her every word with immense concentration. Blue eyes flicker to Santana and there's a moment where every thing slows down and all Brittany can see is the picture of beauty right in front of her. Even as she starts talking, her eyes don't stray much further from Santana then the woman's pretty face.

"There's a tradition in Vegas between the elite street crews. Every year, one racer from each major crew gathers to show their skills and best the other racers in return for, essentially, bragging rights and the overall claim to the pot o'gold."

Santana's eyebrow quirks at Brittany's sentence, she's not completely following what the other woman is saying.

"Pot o'gold?"

Brittany nods in Santana's direction, having every intention of responding to her when Hunter cuts into her attempted reply.

"Every crew puts in five hundred large, so if there's five or six crews racing that's easily anywhere around-"

"Three million dollars." Santana cuts Hunter off this time, noticing a satisfied smirk stretch across Brittany's lips when she does.

"Right," Brittany continues the conversation, "Split between a crew of twelve or so equals about two hundred fifty large a piece. That might not sound like a lot, but you can buy a lot of things with that kind of money and turn it into much more in the street racing world."

Judging by the nods that Brittany's crew provides in response to her words, Santana would guess they've experienced that first hand. She glances towards Puck who is nodding his head in her direction; she glances towards Cooper and Finn who are both too awestruck by the prospect of big money that they stare blankly at the far wall. Well, it looks like her crews decided on the whole thing, but Santana remains skeptical about a few things.

"Okay, while that sounds great and all would someone care to explain how Jesse's crew has to do with it and also, how the hell do you guys front five hundred thousand dollars? I know your operation is solid, but the only way I can see you doing it is by selling some of your possessions and wouldn't that just defeat the purpose?" She questions, her brow furrowing in confusion as she continues to contemplate the entire outlook of things. Brittany chuckles softly from her stance a few feet away and casually leans back against the conference table while flashing Santana a coy smirk.

"Well yeah dumpling, but the cars we sell for the whole shebang aren't always ours."

Her words elicit a chuckle from the rest of Brittany's crew and Santana's face flushes a little under the situation. Is Brittany subtly, though intentionally, mocking her or does she not even realize what she's doing? When Santana glances back at Brittany the woman gives her a sultry wink that confirms it all for her and Santana narrows her eyes in Brittany's direction, she's becoming quite familiar with the woman's games.

"Whatever you say _Britney Spears_, that still doesn't explain why Jesse's crew is going to be a part of it. We hail from the same area, and I've never heard of this race you're talking about all the way back in Miami." Santana fires back, getting a moment of satisfaction at seeing Brittany's eyebrows rise at her choice of name calling-it's not exactly original but Santana knows that it'll keep Brittany guessing as to why precisely she chose it, and if the way Brittany is now staring at her in wonder is any indication than her plan is working rather well.

Before anyone, namely Brittany, can reply to Santana's question, or provide her own manner of cleverly prepared retort, Hunter speaks up again.

"The how they found out isn't really the most important matter at the moment," The way he says it so cut and dry has Santana's skeptical senses tingling. It's quite strange to her that Hunter would want to disregard something like that, but before she has a moment to question it, Brittany is speaking up.

"It is important, but it's something we'll have to figure out later when we draw them in because right now what we have to concentrate on is making sure that Jesse's crew is a part of the race. If we get him involved, there are numerous ways we can ensure we can bring him down, and still take his money in the process."

"But how are we going to do anything like that? If anything Santana and her crew has said about Jesse St. James is true, he's not likely to have anything pulled over his head very easily." Mike speaks up from his corner of the room.

"Mike has a point, and Santana and I know first hand that Jesse's crew is dangerous. When Hec came to us and told us he'd started running for them we were both a little suspicious." Puck then adds to the conversation. Santana nods in agreement following his sentence.

"And then three weeks later, Hector is taking the fall for one of their deals gone wrong and now they're all of a sudden after our entire crew."

"But they don't know what you look like?" Brittany inquires; it's an integral piece of information that could push the plan one direction over the other. Santana shakes her head.

"No, they don't know what I look like. They don't even know my first name, just that my last name is Lopez, obviously, but there are a lot of Lopez's in Miami and Hector and I were never spotted together so it would be hard to narrow it down."

Brittany finds herself nodding at the information, she's not going to divulge that she's already aware of most of everything Santana has said because she may have happened to Google the woman more than once, but it's good to know that everyone else now knows that too. Furthermore, it will be important that Jesse's crew does not know what Santana looks like.

"That's a bonus for us. It's also good news that Jesse isn't aware of what Hunter or myself look like, we tend to keep low profile too. Our crew's name is the biggest thing known about us." Brittany informs the rest of the group. There's a bout of silence that follows as everyone bobs their head in acknowledgment and then drops off into their own little worlds of thinking. Santana's the first to break the silence.

"So what exactly is your plan then?"

Brittany smiles coyly in the woman's direction. She was so hoping that Santana would be the one to ask her that.

################

Brittany knows her plan is a solid one. How could it not be? It involves hot woman, fast cars and a whole lot of money. What's_ not_ to love? She's quite proud of herself, and if she lets herself admit it, she's also maybe kind of glad that there's someone like Santana around to help her execute the plan.

But yeah, she's feeling pretty good about herself and the plan and well pretty much everything right now. That's why she starts to get a little fidgety as she walks down the hall towards her shop. The closer she gets, the louder the rhythmic music beats get. Normally, listening to music is not unheard of when it comes to the shop. It would get pretty boring just sitting there working on cars without anything else going on in the background, but lately Brittany hasn't really had much of a chance to play it from her stereo speakers as opposed to her iPod. That's probably more than likely why the sound reverberating down the hall right now is beginning to get on her nerves, either that or the fact that it's most definitely not something Brittany would ever listen to period.

She narrows her eyes; she has her suspicions on who could be playing, and attempting to sing along (miserably she might add) to this particular music. Brittany speeds her trot up towards her shop and bursts through the door seconds later.

"Sugar!" Brittany exclaims, immediately gathering the attention of the petite brunette shuffling around by herself in the corner, "What the hell is this?" She then questions as straining pubescent boy voices pour from the speakers and make Brittany's ears want to bleed just to erase the memory of their sound.

Sugar Motta, Brittany's crews chief financer (and that's about all), swivels around from her dancing position next to the work table to face her boss and smiles like she's not currently being the most annoyingly persistent person in the world. Without responding Sugar simply stands there and acts like everything is fine and dandy, ear bleeding music still playing overhead. Everything is not fucking fine and dandy.

"Sugar, turn it OFF!" Brittany reiterates her previous statement and that sense of grasping understanding falls over Sugar's features. She glances once towards the stereo and then back to Brittany, when she responds, however, she's one step behind the conversation as per usual.

"Oh One Direction! Aren't they just some sweet ear candy?" Sugar supplies while fanning herself with her ridiculously small clutch as she nonchalantly tosses her hair over one shoulder. Brittany's eye quirks even higher and twitches slightly, she can tell the vein in her temple is making itself known because she can feel it begin to throb in irritation. Her mouth gaps open, torn between wanting to let loose and rage a little and simply just reach out and turn the damn music off. Brittany decides on the latter since deep down she has a soft spot for Sugar in her heart, even if the girl is so extremely unfiltered sometimes.

She closes her eyes tightly and concentrates on not yelling, " Please turn the music off before we have to get another stereo." Brittany requests as gently as possible and judging by the way Sugar's eyes bulge at her request, she's sure that the other girl remembers the last incident. The one where Brittany literally threw the stereo system through the garage door and Sugar had to watch it crash to the asphalt simply because she had refused to turn off the stripped down acoustic version of Teenage Dream that was playing. Brittany doesn't mind the occasional Katy Perry, but the song she heard was sung by a male, and his voice did not bode well with her mood at the time.

Sugar is quick to turn around and walk back to the stereo, cutting the droning noise out of the garage and blissfully off to Brittany's ears.

"Thank you." Brittany says and Sugar smiles sheepishly but nods, "Now not that I mind but what exactly are you doing in this part of the building? I never see you near the shop." She then questions and another large smile breaks out across Sugar's face. She glances over her shoulder towards the direction of the actual garage part of the shop, the place where all the cars and tools and what not are. Sugar doesn't know. She doesn't pay attention to that kind of stuff.

"Santana found me this morning and asked me if I could let her into your shop." Sugar tells Brittany as nonchalantly as possible, she's pretty darn pleased with herself. Pleased as punch. Brittany, on the other hand, hears the words 'Santana' and 'your shop' and immediately goes into panic mood. She and Santana may be cordial, and a little more than friends at this point (and Brittany would be lying if she said she wasn't considering more and more as the days go by) but she still gets a little twitchy at the prospect of anyone else in her shop, especially when she's not there to oversee what they're doing.

"You whhhhhat?" The words rush out of Brittany's mouth, as she starts moving towards the garage door entrance, the small door at the back of the shop. Sugar is on her heels now worried she's done something else wrong.

"I'm sorry Brittany! She was just so smiley and nice and she told me it was so she could do something special for you. I thought you'd be okay with it." Sugar explains, the panic in her voice evident. Her words halt Brittany for a brief second, especially when she considers how Sugar just said nice and she was talking about Santana. Not to say that the girl can't be nice, it's just the times she's seen that particular side of the fiery Latina have been few and far between and in particularly private situations. Brittany glances over her shoulder to Sugar.

"She was nice?" She inquires with a raised eyebrow, skeptical written all over her face. Sugar swallows nervously and nods with the slightest bit of hesitancy.

"Yeah?" It comes out as more of a question and Brittany almost laughs out loud right then and there. The things that happen in a shop huh?

With a shrug she turns to continue into the garage, "Okay then."

When Brittany enters the garage part of her shop she is instantly halted in her tracks. She quickly finds the saliva, air and coherency ripped from her mouth, lungs and brain (respectively). She finds herself biting her lip and squeezing a piece of random fuel line she found hanging on the door so tightly she's likely to damage the reinforced plastic.

There's a reason for Brittany's actions, a pretty damn good and practical one, because just in front of her a little ways into the shop, bent over the inside of her Ford GT's engine compartment wearing daisy dukes and a two sizes two small and riding up white tank top is Santana, looking much finer than the day she was born. Brittany is understandably having a hard time concentrating.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to admire the view very long because besides Sugar bumping into her from behind as she follows Brittany into the garage, Mike's voice is also quickly calling to her from down the hall. Brittany has just enough time to avert her eyes from the curve of Santana's backside to turn and meet her mechanic and boosting friend's eyes as he jogs into the garage.

"Brittany." Mikes greets her with a nod and Brittany nods back, she watches out of her peripheral vision as Santana extracts herself from the engine compartment and turns to witness the commotion. Mike runs a hand through his short straight black hair.

"Joe and David just got back with intel on Jesse's crew." Mike informs his, for all intents and purposes, crew boss. Brittany nods in understanding and waits for Mike to elaborate, she only jumps slightly as Santana appears by her side but tries to brush of the pounding of her heart as just another moment of startlement (even if Brittany is fully aware that she doesn't get startled, at all).

"They said his main crew runs seven people deep. He's got a right hand man already but rumor has it he's looking for not only two more racers to join his cause but a girl to wear on his arm. His posse is at least fifteen or so fat."

Brittany continues to nod at the information, processing it as it comes. The gears start shifting in her head as she considers how the information can be greatly applied to everything she has planned out.

"Okay, that's good news." Santana speaks up first glancing at Brittany for confirmation. Their eyes lock briefly before Brittany also nods her agreement.

"It is," She starts to say before turning her gaze back to Mike, "So we set them up with two racers and a girl. That should be simple enough." Brittany then says with a shrug of her shoulder. Santana starts shaking her head at her side.

"Wait, what? No you can't expect to just set that type of stuff up. Besides, who do you propose be the 'girl' you send in? Certainly you're not proposing yourself?" Santana says in such a way that Brittany's almost positive she means it more as a finality rather than a simple suggestion. Her lips quirk into a smile.

"What, you don't think I could do it?"

Santana's eyes narrow at Brittany's playfulness, "More like I wouldn't want you to have to do that. You don't know what kind of guy he is. Jesse St. James is dangerous."

Brittany gathers the serious concern that oozes from Santana's words. It makes her heart skip a beat as she considers the woman actually wanting to look out for her, but still she's not one to back down from any sort of challenge.

"I can handle my own," she starts to say and sees Santana open her mouth to protest, so she continues by reiterating exactly what she means, "But I don't plan on being the arm candy. That's not my thing. I was thinking we could send someone else, maybe not as integral to our plans as you or me."

It's Santana's turn to quirk an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Well Lauren would probably just end up beating everyone up."

Brittany nods, "Yeah and Quinn is far too independent and strong minded to convince Jesse she's into him."

"There's Rachel?" Mike suggests. He hasn't had much interaction with the woman from Santana's crew that appears to do nothing else but complain and suggest ridiculous things, but he knows she's a girl and that the entire Pierce and Lopez crews might not mind sending her away for a little while, if only to dispel the spontaneous bouts of Broadway show tunes the woman likes to belt out at the most random of times. Both Santana and Brittany are already shaking their heads at the suggestion.

"I've known Rachel for a long time, and if there's one thing she's definitely not good at it's acting. And if there's anything she's worse at doing than acting, it's falling in love with the wrong damn guys." Santana explains and Brittany can't help but chuckle slightly.

"She's part of your crew and she's dating Finn, also part of your crew so how does that bode for your sense of judgment?"

Santana rolls her eyes, "I never said I picked either of them to be in the crew. Rachel was Puck's ex-girlfriend from a long time ago. She provides an uncanny ability to annoy other racers into taking bets they can't win. When they broke up, because according to Puck he can't be tied down, Rachel met Finn-also a friend of Puck's and he some how wormed his way into the crew. Hec's always had a big heart when it comes to letting people in, unfortunately I'd say that's one of his biggest flaws." She explains and finds Mike and Brittany nodding along with her in complete grasp of her words.

"Okay, so Rachel's out too. Then whom does that leave us with?" Mike questions as he, Brittany and Santana all fall into a moment of concentrated silence. Only when the fourth person who's been a part of the conversation the entire time starts humming do they realize they've got their candidate in the bag.

It takes Sugar a second to realize that every single pair of eyes is looking her way. It takes only another second for her eyes to go wide and her hands to start frantically flailing in front of her.

"No, no no no no no. Noooope." She says too which Brittany quirks an eyebrow at. Sugar's face instantly falls into a pout.

"You're going to make me do it anyway aren't you?"

Brittany simply shrugs her shoulders but nods.

"You're our best bet Sugs."

Sugar gives an exasperated sigh before she flicks her hair again, "Fine I'll go and be this Jesse St. Suck's arm candy, and I'll do a damn good job of it because hello I _am_ Sugar Motta, but I expect you to grovel at my feet when I'm done."

Brittany rolls her eyes, "I'm not ever going to grovel at your feet Sugar."

There's a few moments of one sided glaring, followed by some exasperated breathing until finally with another huff, Sugar throws her arms down at her side.

"Well okay but just so you know I really think this is super lamo spastic everyone here kind of sucks right now and that's _not_ the aspergers talking." She says before pulling her arms up and crossing them over her chest and tapping her foot upon the tiled floor. Brittany just gives her a look that says "really?" but expands no further upon the situation.

"Well, I think I head umm Rory yelling down the hall. I should probably go check out what he might want before he sets something on fire again." Mike speaks up a few seconds later sensing the incredible amount of female tension that's surrounding him and not really wanting to be apart of any sort of besting beat down that might take place. Santana too takes a step back, noticing the way Sugar and Brittany continue to glare at one another as if waiting for the other to break.

The battle of wills ends when Sugar huffs again and stomps her foot like a spoilt toddler on the cusp of a giant tantrum. One precarious rise of Brittany's eyebrow shuts that down before it even happens, and in the next moment Santana watches in utter fascination as Sugar silently, though still fuming, storms out of her and Brittany's sight. Brittany watches her friend go for a few second before chuckling and turning her attention back to the Latina woman standing nearby, waiting patiently but looking completely uncomfortable.

"She's always like that. Something about being brought up in such a shroud of privilege that sometimes she forgets things don't work like that here." Brittany explains with a shrug of her shoulder as she takes a step into the garage past Santana and walks over to the car the woman had been bent over only a short while ago. Santana's brow crinkles in confusion.

"But she's her own person, doesn't she get a say in things?"

Brittany looks over her shoulder, taking a moment to study the way Santana looks when the gears are really turning in her head. She smiles.

"Of course, she's free to act however she wants, except if that's likely to get us in trouble or killed. In this case, she knows that we're counting on her to play the part but that doesn't mean that Sugar's not going to be a little theatrical about the whole matter. She's always had a flare for the dramatics." Brittany says with a playful roll of her eyes. Santana finds herself smiling, though a peculiar situation, she thinks she actually gets it.

It's a family and they work together, no matter what. Even if sometimes (or more often than not almost_ all_ the time) other members of the crew don't exactly agree one hundred percent with what happens around them. It's a game of trust, and in the end, everyone seems to trust Brittany.

She seems to be a trustworthy person at the very least, even if a lot of her means and manners are less than reputable and sometimes downright rude.

"Not that I mind, even though I kind of do, but what exactly were you doing with my car?" Brittany calls from the carport area of the garage, breaking Santana from her moment of clarity. Brown eyes glance up and instantly connect with blue, almost as if their magnetized and drawn together. Santana admits she has a hard time denying Brittany's pull sometimes. She takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp the wrench she had been using earlier.

"I was retrograding your spark plugs and checking to see where you could properly store a NOS. Figured this would be the car we'd fancy up for you to race and get into Jesse's game."

Brittany nods her agreement, impressed with Santana's prepared thinking.

"That's…" Brittany starts to say as numerous thoughts come to mind, she'd like to tell Santana that no one's ever been that thoughtful, she'd also kind of like to snap at the woman because she's still got this underlying itch to do that to anyone who messes with her things in her shop, but she figures she can let it slide this time. After all, the prospect of seeing Santana in the outfit she's wearing bending over an engine compartment is in the cards if Brittany doesn't chase her off, she'd be down for that. "Really umm nice of you." She settles with and tries not to roll her eyes at the ease with which the words come out but the meaning behind them doesn't really match her tone.

Santana seems to notice as well as she quirks an eyebrow. She still can't figure Brittany out sometimes. Before she has the chance to reply, Brittany is changing the subject and throwing her off again.

"I see you're back to wearing inappropriate clothes in the workplace." The taller woman says with a raised eyebrow as her eyes glance up and down Santana's outfit, ever meticulous in their appreciation. Santana snaps her fingers to break Brittany from her gaze, a coy and knowing smile playing across her own face.

"Eyes up here honey." She says and it's reminiscent of the first time they met. Brittany chuckles slightly, it's hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago. At first she couldn't stand even seeing Santana, and now she finds the woman tolerable. Actually, she finds Santana more than tolerable, and she thinks Santana is aware of that too.

"Can you blame me for looking?" Brittany asks as she takes a step closer to the scantily clad tan skinned beauty, relishing the way Santana's breath hitches at her close proximity and brown eyes turn a shade darker under Brittany's scrutiny. Santana seems to gather her wits though because in the next second she's flirtatiously cocking her hips as both of her hands fall to rest upon them. Brittany's quickly drawn to the strip of tan skin that's exposed along Santana's stomach as her tank top slips north just a notch.

"Maybe not, but I can say that you've become quite bold with your looks and all. There's just one little problem though," Santana starts to say as she takes a step in Brittany's direction. Blue eyes instantaneously snap up to watch Santana pull her plump bottom lip between her teeth, the sight doing wonders to Brittany's entire body as she fights desperately not to show it.

"I'd be very interested in you enlightening me as to what that might be." Brittany murmurs in a soft voice, feeling the volume necessary considering that Santana is much closer to her than before. In fact, the woman is practically an inch away from her. So close that Brittany can count the eyelashes that brush across Santana's tan cheeks. Their height difference never fails to send a particular jolt through Brittany's body; it's really sexy when a woman is just that much shorter than her. She watches, trying not to shiver under Santana's touch as tan hands reach out and grip tightly at her own slim hips. Brittany fails at not making her swallow exceptionally noticeable, but Santana merely chuckles lowly at the sight.

Well, at least Brittany can evoke _that_ reaction from the woman.

"I bet you would, which is why I'm going to let you in on it." Santana murmurs back, her voice is low and raspy but thick in such a way that it causes Brittany's mind to momentarily blank as she considers all the other times Santana's voice could sound like this. Especially if it were to be whispered in Brittany's ear.

An involuntary moan slips from Brittany's lips when her current fantasy becomes reality as Santana's lips are pressed to the shell of her ear and begin whispering hotly into the flesh.

"You still haven't told me," Santana begins, her breath hot and moist against Brittany's ear, her hands firm and steady in their grip upon the taller woman's defined hips, "What's in la bolsa."

Brittany's mind should be blanking, because it doesn't really matter what Santana just said to her. Whatever it was, it was sexy as fuck. But on the other hand, she's really confused about some things.

"Hrmmm?" She mumbles out, somewhere between an inquiry and a statement. Santana chuckles in hers ear but pulls back to lock her brown eyes with blue and Brittany's so entranced by what's happening that she doesn't realize Santana's fingers are skimming the surface of her forearm until they lock on the paper bag Brittany still holds in her hand. Santana quirks in eyebrow in her direction.

"Oh." Brittany replies, now feeling entirely ridiculous. Santana wants to know what's in the bag. But then, suddenly a coy smirk is pulling across Brittany's lips. Santana wants to know what's in the bag, which means that the ball is in Brittany's court now.

With this knowledge, she brings the bag between their bodies, Santana's hand still gripping one edge of the bag as Brittany grips the other edge. She waggles her eyebrows at Santana.

"Why don't you have a look-see and find out." She suggests, not missing the fact their faces are still an inch apart. A smile spreads across Santana's face.

"Maybe I will."

After all the playful banter is said and done, when Santana opens the bag she can honestly say she wasn't' expecting to find what she does. Then again, knowing Brittany the way she does already, it really shouldn't come as much of a surprise.

"That's it?"

Brittany laughs.

"What were you expecting princesca?"

Santana looks back up at Brittany in wonder.

"A little more than random license plates I suppose."

Brittany frowns at this.

"They aren't just random license plates!" She exclaims pulling the entire bag from Santana's grasp in such a way that it leaves the other woman staring surprised at the action. Brittany walks over to the workbench and makes a show of dumping the contents on top of the clean surface as Santana steps near to watch.

Indeed numerous license plates falls out of the bag with dull clinks but as Santana watches closely, she also notices strips of laminated paper, GPS chips, and wires connected to microscopic tags also adorn the table. Okay, now she's even more confused.

"So you paid Peyton two thousand dollars for a bunch of car things you could have easily gotten yourself for free?"

Brittany rolls her eyes again.

"These are specifically collected license plates and VIN numbers to wrecked cars. Do you what that means?" Brittany inquires and Santana merely shakes her head. Her crew was never one with dealing with that kind of stuff.

"It means that when we go out and steal the cars needed to fund our future plan and project, we will now have sets of items that can easily be used to alter the identity of the cars thus allowing us to flip them quickly without the fear of being arrested for the original boost."

Santana's still kind of drawing a blank, and Brittany seems to gather this.

"We take off the old pieces that identify the cars and put new ones on. Strip them, repaint them and we've got a whole new set of brand new cars that anyone buying would be the wiser of the fact they are actually buying a stolen car."

Oh, well when she explains it like that it makes more sense.

"Wow, Peyton does all this?" Santana asks, just the thought of that woman doing something so intelligent, and for Brittany no less, has a fire raging through her veins. She's not one to be outdone by any other woman who knows her way around a car, Brittany being the exception and even then, Santana at least knows where she can best Brittany.

"Not really, it's an operation my pops started a few years ago. Peyton's dad is actually the one who runs it, she just happens to be the gofer for the operation, and then there's the fact that we know each other a little more than just…ehm…informally so she kind of runs the stuff for me. It's easier that way."

Santana raises an eyebrow, her nostrils flaring under the weight of Brittany's last uttered words.

"I bet."

Brittany can feel the icy chill that sets over the garage at Santana's very quick chance in emotion. And here she was thinking she could avoid it, the whole bringing up her ex again. She knows that they both don't really like talking about it, but Brittany's having a hard time figuring out why Santana can't just come out and say what she really wants to say. Is she into Brittany or just the idea of it? It's really getting to be quite confusing.

"Listen," Brittany starts to say, figuring it's about time one of them cleared the air. She honestly doesn't think she can stand being around Santana and her insane sexiness anymore if the woman doesn't stop being so hot and cold. Sure love games are fun and all but eventually Brittany would like to get down to business a little, business between the sheets if you know what she means, and if Santana's not up for that, well then Brittany would like to be able to move on and find someone who might be. She takes a step towards Santana, aware of the fact that the other woman appears to be listening to her quite intently.

"I don't know your whole story, I don't know if I ever will but I'd like to maybe figure it out a little more. Despite the fact that I still think you're a little bit of a stuck up when it comes to certain things-"

"I'm stuck up?" Santana interrupts incredulously and quite obviously appalled that Brittany would ever even consider saying such a thing. Brittany fits her eyes on Santana in a burning blue blaze.

"Would you shut up for one second and listen woman?" Santana looks furious at the notion and opens her mouth to respond but Brittany cuts her off, effectively, in the best way she knows how as she takes a step towards her and wraps her arms around a tan waist.

Brittany doesn't give Santana a moment to object before she's pressing her lips against the plump kissable ones she's been dying to taste since the moment she saw them.

It's not anywhere near a real kiss, just a simple and very slight brush of lips against lips, and after an initial gasp from Santana she follows it up with a squirm and is soon pressing her hands against Brittany's shoulders to get the girl off of her only to be met with a mischief filled Cheshire like grin and sparkling blue eyes.

"You.." Santana stutters out, her eyes wide and still in shock. Brittany rolls her eyes.

"Yeah me, I was trying to get you to be quiet so that I could tell you that I find you insanely attractive and that I'd very much enjoy kissing you. But since that's out of the way, I'll tell you the other thing." Brittany starts to say, a smirk still pulling at her lips.

"You-I should," Santana tries again and Brittany merely chuckles, her hands draw back from the small of Santana's back and rest on her hips squeezing a little. That seems to draw Santana from her haze because she slaps Brittany's hands away from her body. "I should slap you." She says and Brittany takes a step back, she knows when she's verging on pushing too far.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't. I honestly just needed you to be quiet for a second." She says as matter of factlty as possible as if she were simply stating the day of the week. No big thing. Santana continues to gap in shock at Brittany's nonchalance. Doesn't she even realize what she just did? Santana's at loss for words, and surely it has nothing to do with the fact that when Brittany's lips touched hers there was a spark and feeling like she's ever felt before. But still, there's something about the whole sneak attack of it that kind of still throws Santana off kilter, she doesn't like being taken by surprise.

"You could have asked." She says, still furious.

"To kiss you?"

Santana huffs in frustration.

"To listen for a second."

Brittany scratches her head.

"I'm pretty sure I tried that."

"Well you could have tried harder instead of just kiss attacking me!" Santana exclaims and Brittany laughs out loud at that. She gets the feeling Santana isn't so much upset about the kiss as she is about the being taken off guard.

"Where's the fun in that?" Immediately recognizing her mistake when brown eyes, that she's sure hold a fire behind them, snap to her. Brittany swallows and a sheepish look covers her facial features.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Next time I'll ask harder."

Santana's eyes narrow further, she gnaws on the inside of her lip a little as she makes a serious effort to figure out just what she's going to say and do next. The moment doesn't exactly come for her.

"Hey Brittany. Oh hey," Quinn shouts as she floats into the garage and then notices that Santana is standing awfully close to her friend, "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" She asks as a sly grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. Santana's cheeks flush slightly and she turns her attention from Quinn, Brittany clears her throat.

"Nope. We were just talking car stuff." She replies to her friend trying her best to sound convincing and to anyone else she would have been, but this is Quinn 'Can Sniff Out a Lie From a Mile Away' Fabray, so she's shit out of luck in that aspect.

"Uh huh. Well, I just thought you should both know that Rory returned with the detailed list of cars and Mike and Joe are ready to go tonight if you are."

Brittany's head snaps up at this information, and she notices that Santana turns her head around as well.

"Yeah I think we should start right away," Brittany begins to say and glances towards Santana, she knows there's still that slight tension between them, and more things will undoubtedly need to be discussed but she can see the light shining in Santana's eyes that tells her she's ready to do some boosting too. Still she gives a little look to Santana to ask her opinion.

"I can get Puck and Cooper ready in five minutes."

Brittany smiles at that. Woman knows how to get down to business. She nods and turns back to Quinn.

"Tell Mike and Joe to meet outside the shop." Quinn nods and turns to exit the shop. When she's gone Brittany turns back to her tool area and reaches out to the left of the giant toolbox to grab her duffle bag that's filled with all of her little boosting tools. As she straightens up she turns to find Santana looking at her expectantly. Before Brittany can say anything, Santana is cocking her hip and speaking up.

"For the record, this isn't over. There's still a lot to discuss." Brittany tries not to groan, she's really starting to regret that brush of the lips. Maybe if she'd tried to talk in the first place there wouldn't be so much of an outlook of talk now. Brittany wants to kiss Santana and all, but she doesn't want to go through a million motions to do so. But then again, here she is finding herself nodding in Santana's direction. What the hell is wrong with her?

"For now though, let's go boost some cars."

They make it outside and find the rest of their respective crews waiting for them. Santana turns to Brittany.

"Want to have a little fun with this?" She inquires and it garners an intrigued rise of an eyebrow from Brittany.

"What'd you have in mind precious?"

Santana's eyes narrow at the pet name, Brittany chuckles inwardly to herself. She just loves getting a rise out of the woman.

"My crew brings back the most cars first and your crew has to be at our beck and call for an entire day."

Brittany is indeed intrigued.

"Okay and when my crew is the one who actually wins, then you and only you, have to be at my beck and call for the remainder of your stay here. And when I say beck and call I mean you have to do _anything_," Brittany starts to say before giving a once up and down of Santana, "Anything I ask."

Santana's eyes go into death glare at Brittany's challenge. She knows the woman's just doing it to gather an uproar, which she succeeds in as both crews let out a few 'ohhhs' and 'ahhhs'. Santana squares her shoulders, she's not afraid of a little challenge.

"Fine, but that's not going to happen."

"Whatever you say angel face." Brittany responds, already giddy at the notion. Her eyes are trained on Santana the whole trip to her Nissan, and when she reaches it, the smaller woman turns and gives a defiant glare in Brittany's direction.

"Make sure your high beams aren't too bright!" Brittany calls out in a last effort to throw the woman off. Hey, she likes to win.

And with that, they are off to their separate destinations. A playground city of sleeping cars ready and waiting to be awoken all at their fingertips.

* * *

**Remember my vicariously living friends, leave the boosting and the working on cars to the professionals, that kind of shit can get dangerous! Thanks y'all. **


	10. When Two Wheels are Better than Four

******Chapter 10: When Two Wheels are Better than Four**

It's late, or early depending on how you look at it. Either way it's about four in the morning and Brittany's about done with the night. She's boosted six cars in the last five hours and she's feeling the night's end coming to a close.

But the really good news about the evening comes down to one thing; Brittany's totally got this in the bag. No, literally, she's got a bag and in it is the very last remodifier chip she'll need to boost the last car on the list.

The only issue is that the last car on the list also happens to be the most notoriously difficult car to boost.

A Porsche Cayman S Coupe.

In truth, Porsche's are a dime a dozen when it comes to finding one, especially in the glitter and glam world of Las Vegas. But, for Brittany, this particular model of car holds a special place in her boosting world, for more than one reason, but mostly because it's the one car that has always given her family grief. It's the one car that's always gotten away.

There's something about it that just eludes the Pierce talent and always manages to slip through their fingers.

But not tonight because tonight, Brittany is boosting a Porsche and winning the little bet she made with Santana. She can't say she's not just a little excited about that. (She's really fucking ecstatic about that.)

"Alright, there it is Pierce, the Cayman. You got this boss." Mike attempts to encourage Brittany as he brings the aide car to a stop on the corner of the street where the shiny spotless straight off the lot candy apple red Porsche sits parked nicely just inside the gated driveway of the lavish Vegas house she plans on boosting it from. The owners, silly as they are, thought that a simple gate could prevent the theft of their precious car. Little do they know overcoming the gate just makes the boost that much more rewarding to Brittany.

She nods to Mike before taking a deep breath and slipping silently from the car, she slinks over to the gate before catching the sound of Mike driving off quietly into the night, rerouting his drive to meet up with Brittany back at the shop when her scratch is successful.

She takes a look around, thankful that this particular neighborhood doesn't rely too heavily on streetlights and community watchmen. Everyone here thinks they're too rich, too posh and thus exempt from any kind of crime. Sucks to be them. As for Brittany, well, it brings a smile to her face knowing she's going to be reaping the benefits of their carelessness. A few seconds of lock picking and wire splicing and Brittany's got the electronic gate springing to life and skating back into its little cubby, leaving the driveway wide open for her to just waltz on up.

Brittany's never really been a religious person. What with the Pierce motto relying more on destiny and fate (apparently not determined by any particular deity) as opposed to any supposed faith, she doesn't really have much want or requisite for praying but seeing as how right now is a do or die situation, and she's appealed to the notion of pleading before, she claps her hands together and tilts her head to the heavens.

"Dear merciful car god, if you're out there anywhere, I wholeheartedly beg you to hear my call. Please let this boost go smooth and get me home free in time to put a smile on Santana's pretty little mouth."

She tries not to think about what else she might potentially be doing with Santana when she wins this bet. Like bikini car washes and French maid outfits for Santana when she's serving Brittany drinks poolside. That'll be the life.

Brittany's about two inches from the driver's side of the car when she suddenly spots a figure, dressed from head to toe in black, dropping down from the ledge that overhangs from the side of the Spanish architecture bungalow type house. The figure dashes to the passenger side and only when they remove their black facemask to reveal a smirking Santana does Brittany quite loudly gasp her shock and surprise.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Brittany whisper growls across the roof of the car as she watches Santana begin to delicately, but efficiently, strip out of her black gear and leave her petite body draped in much more sexy, though technically much less in terms of amount, clothes. Santana takes a moment to pull her hair up into a high pony before she dips her hand into her short black shorts pocket and pulls out her phone and what appears to be picking tools.

"I'm stealing this car, the last one on the list, what does it look like?" She asks nonchalantly, barely sparing a moment from looking at her phone to shoot Brittany a devilishly coy smile. Brittany is a good minus three seconds away from seriously blowing a fuse. Who the hell does Santana think she is right now?

"You can't steal this car!" Brittany hisses across the roof, steeling her face in what she hopes is a determined and final say of things look. Santana quirks an eyebrow at the challenge, "I got here first." Brittany almost cringes as the words come out. She had not intended to sound so juvenile, but there's something about being around Santana, in situations like this, that brings that side out in her. Santana, for her part, chuckles at Brittany's words.

"And yet, you still haven't stolen anything and I'm already opening the door." She says and Brittany's eyes do a double take of the situation. When, what, where, who and how the hell did Santana manage to jimmy pick her way into the Cayman from the passenger side without Brittany noticing? Furthermore, what the fuck is Brittany doing letting Santana climb all casual like into the car? This is her damn boost!

"You were distracting me!" Brittany exclaims as she narrows her eyes at Santana who has popped back up from the passenger side to stare smugly across the roof at her. Brittany huffs at Santana's actions and reaches forward to grip at the driver's side door, but she doesn't even get as far as to touch it.

"Careful there," Santana says across the way, it's playful but has enough of a warning edge to it that Brittany knows to take it serious. She lifts her eyes and they instantly lock onto brown. Her hand remains seemingly frozen in place but she manages to listen to Santana's next words, "The driver's side hosts most of the sensitive motion sensors for the car's alarm system. You press too hard in the wrong spot and-"

She doesn't finish her sentence before they both become aware of a shrill wailing alarm coming from the car in front of them. Santana's eyes go big and jump back up to Brittany's, panic evident in her features.

"Too late!" She yells across to Brittany who nods in understanding and goes to open the driver's side door that she has been given access to by Santana, who unlocked the doors upon entrance on her side of the car. When they both settle into the car together and close the doors, they turn to face each other, drawing a blank between them.

"Seriously, you're still here?" Brittany asks after they've been sitting there for a good few awkward moments of silence. Santana rolls her eyes at Brittany, now completely used to her insensitivity in certain matters (and also recognizing just how much Brittany is probably not being serious at all. Projecting, Santana realizes, is kind of Brittany's thing.)

"Would you prefer I left and let the cops catch you, because judging by the sirens I can hear not so faintly in the distance, that's a real possibility." Santana asks as she looks over her shoulder and out the rear window of the Cayman. There's nothing on the streets but the police sirens are becoming more loud and clear as they get closer and closer. If that wasn't enough to make her a little panicky, the fact that Brittany has still not gotten the car started is putting her on edge.

"I can do this on my own," Brittany starts to say and Santana's eyes turn back to gaze at her.

"Just be thankful that this car doesn't seem to be equipped with the radar based interior surveillance system. That would be a whole different case of shit out of luck."

Brittany doesn't know why it bothers her so much that Santana seems to know more about this car than her, but it does. Seriously, where did this woman come from?

"I don't need your help." Brittany tries to claim. She wants to win this bet fair and square, maybe show Santana that she's not as high and mighty as she thinks she is. Instead, all she sees is Santana over exaggeratingly rolling her eyes.

"Yes, you're clearly doing a bang up job by yourself." She says as she watches Brittany try to get access to the steering column from prying at the edge of the reinforced plastic. Apparently, Santana recognizes, Brittany hasn't had much luck with stealing this particular car before, otherwise she'd know that getting into the steering column is damn near impossible. Santana releases a sigh before she stretches forward and gently puts her hand on Brittany's forearm.

"Here, that's not going to work. It's more computerized than physical, you can't just wench the column open and hope to find what you're looking for." Santana explains and Brittany just looks at her with incredulity. With another huff, she folds her arms over her chest and gives Santana an expectant look.

"Fine, you do it then." Santana's eyebrows rise slightly but she shrugs and quickly slides over to Brittany's seat. In the next second, Brittany has gone from being severely pissed off at Santana's knowledge of the car to incredibly mind blown by her actions as she watches a single tan leg swing over her lap and then both of Santana's toned thighs and smooth knees settle at the sides of her own thighs. Brittany looks up to find Santana's face, with her body currently straddling Brittany's lap, only a few inches away from her own face. Brittany's heart stops.

"What are you…" she starts to say but Santana simply reaches down next to her and grips the seat's recliner handle, forcing the seat back as far as it will go.

"It'll be easier this way." Santana says with a sultry look and a coy upturn of her lips.

"Easier what way…" Brittany finds her words fading off into oblivion as her entire body is wracked with the sight before her. Santana holding her phone in her hand, stretching and bending down backwards, while still very much in Brittany's lap, as her head disappears under the steering column. Her lower half remains situated on Brittany's lap giving her the most perfect view of Santana's body in all its glory.

Brittany quickly finds that she can't stop her shaky hands from resting upon Santana's hips, and she realizes that if this were any other situation she'd probably be trying to do more. Santana doesn't seem to mind the hand placement as she continues to work her way under the column and get access to the wires from the electronic box she pops open. Once satisfied with her find, she pulls herself back up to sit properly in Brittany's lap, not missing the way blue eyes unabashedly admire how her core muscles engage and her abs flex out from the exposed strip of stomach her hiked up top gives off.

"There." Santana says with a coy smirk and a small wink before she shifts around in Brittany's lap and stretches forward to fiddle with the ignition. Even as the sounds of sirens get closer and closer, Brittany finds that she's not nervous at all. There's something about Santana's weight and warmth resting in her lap that's really comforting. She doesn't even realize Santana's figured everything out until she hears the engine roars to life and the car vibrates beneath her, but it springs her into action.

"Okay, I've got it from here." She says and Santana climbs out of her lap and into the passenger seat as Brittany takes a moment to miss the feeling of having Santana sitting in her lap. When she's ready, Brittany adjusts the seat so she can drive and glances to her right with a mischief filled grin.

She's ready to drive, and she's ready to drive_ fast_.

"Better buckle up darling because we've got a date and I don't like being late." Brittany says before she slams the car into reverse and peels out of the driveway. The tires spin a little as Brittany burns rubber and gives a little smoke show for the cops to drive through as she speeds off in the opposite direction of the flashing blue and red and into the night.

################

Brittany pulls the Porsche safely into the shop docking area a good twenty minutes later, thankful that this time around she made it with the car in one piece and the coppers none the wiser about who they had been chasing and eventually lost only a few minutes into the chase. She puts the Cayman in park and lets out a victorious sigh, obviously very pleased with herself for her triumphant actions.

Santana wastes no time removing herself from the vehicle and Brittany, though confused by her actions, is quick to follow her.

"Hey, I think it's only right that I collect my prize now." Brittany calls after Santana's retreating form, stopping her just before she gets to the shop's exit door. Santana turns around slowly, a disbelieving look covering her face. She cocks her head to the side before she replies.

"Um, are you forgetting that we both essentially stole the car?" She asks as her hands fall to her hips and she takes a step back in Brittany's direction, carefully watching her as Brittany leans her elbows on the roof of the Cayman, her hands clasped together, her smile lopsided and knowing. "Just imagine if I hadn't been there to save your ass."

Brittany only smiles wider at Santana's words.

"Are you sure it wasn't my driving that saved our ass's?"

Santana's eyes narrow at the implication. How dare Brittany.

"If I hadn't been there to start the car for you, you might still be sitting in that driveway trying to figure it out. Setting off alarm systems and what not." She points out, taking another step closer. Brittany chuckles openly at her words and pushes back from the car, walking around and stepping closer to Santana.

"Maybe I just let you think that you were doing something because I liked the feeling of having you sit on my lap and I didn't want to bruise your delicate ego?" Brittany fires back, her blue eyes are sparkling with way more mirth than should be legal. Santana's lips pull into a thin, anger bubbling just under the surface line.

"Sometimes I think you are too self-righteous for your own good."

Brittany smiles.

"Sounds awesome."

"It's not." Santana counters, but it still doesn't seem to deter Brittany from smugly grinning her way.

"Well either way, I still think it's only fair that we agree on the fact that I won. So you're at my beck and call." Brittany says as she takes yet another step towards Santana, they're proximity is bordering on close enough to feel the electricity buzzing through their respective bodies.

"Uhh uh, nope. I still don't agree to those terms." Santana replies, but her tone is weaker than normal, and Brittany spots the vulnerability. She steps so they are an inch apart.

"This wasn't really a negotiation sweetheart." It's low and layered with sensuality. Brittany notices the way Santana's throat bobs in nervousness a second before she speaks again.

"Anything that has to do with you trying to control me is always a negotiation." It's so quiet and kitten like, Brittany's almost convinced that Santana's not even trying to fight it anymore. She smirks and dips her chin so her eyes, shining like the water off a Caribbean shore, meet swirling brown.

"Why?" She says and bites her lip slightly, making sure to drag her eyes from Santana's eyes to her lips and then back up, "I get the feeling you totally live for the bottom."

Santana noticeably shudders, but there's also a hint of defiance in her stance. Her own eyes dart to Brittany's lips before they move back up to her eyes. She releases a deep calming breath.

"I never said you won," Santana starts to say, "But I never said I won either. So draw, tie, even break. How about we settle it by reaching a bargain. I will help you with whatever you need around the shop, if it's within reason and not completely inappropriate, and in turn you can help me learn how to do things I don't know how to do so that I'll be a much more convincing arm girl for Jesse."

Brittany considers the offer, realizing it has a lot of potential. Plus, bonus for her, it just means that she and Santana get to be in close proximity and from the sounds of it suggestive situations. How could she turn that down?

"Okay princesca, you've got yourself a bargain." Brittany says with a nod of her head, "Now where would you like to start?"

#################

It turns out what Santana wants as a bargain is to start with learning how to properly operate and ride a streetbike, figuring it would be a good skill to possess if she was going to be in the vicinity of the bike savvy Jesse St. James, and for Brittany to be the one to teach her how to ride. Brittany has absolutely no qualms with showing Santana how to ride a bike because it just gives her another excuse to put her hands on that fine body. Which, speaking of, it precisely what she's doing right now.

They're only sitting on the Ninja with Brittany perched behind Santana while her feet are on the ground. Santana sits on the bike like she would if she were actually driving it. Brittany's hands are very much secured to Santana's hips, probably lower than they need to be but Santana hasn't complained so she's not about to remove them.

"Okay I think you're ready, let's move the bike over to the garage door." Santana turns her head to look at her questioningly after Brittany says those words. Brittany chuckles and drops her hands down to Santana's thighs, pushing them away from where they grip at the bike and forcing Santana to put her feet on the ground. Brittany smiles at her and Santana gets the hint.

A few minutes later, after some very slow waddling on Santana's part (seeing as how she's a little short for the bike so it takes her longer to move it, not to mention Brittany's not doing much in the sense of helping), they find themselves right in front of the garage's large sliding door. Brittany's hands squeeze at Santana's hips again.

"Hold tight, I'm going to open it." She says before swinging her leg off the bike and stepping away, leaving Santana sitting there with a look that says 'seriously?'

"Where else am I going to go?" She mumbles to herself as she watches Brittany walk over to the garage door and carefully lift it up, exposing the inside of the concrete incased shop to the glare of sunlight that's filtering down from the rapidly rising dawn sun. She's so distracted by the beautiful light that she doesn't immediately recognize when Brittany returns to the bike, that is until she's climbing on behind Santana and pressing in close.

"Now, turn it on." Brittany encourages Santana with a little squeeze of her hands as they come to rest on prominent hipbones again. Santana moves the thumb of her right hand down to the ignition button and presses it in. There's the turn over sound before the engine roars to life, humming underneath both of their bodies. Brittany scoots forward, pushing her front impossibly closer into Santana's back and trailing her hands tightly around her waist before she stretches her arms out and places her hands over Santana's where they rest on the throttle and clutch part of the handlebars.

Brittany's lips are right next to Santana's ear when she speaks in a low whisper.

"Press the shifter down once for first gear. You're going to slowly release the clutch as you pull back on the throttle. Feel the bike catch and you can fully let go of the clutch. It's going to be shaky at first, but I've got you. It's just like driving a car only a lot more personal."

Santana nods her understanding, hoping that Brittany can't feel the way her heart is pounding against her chest, or how the shiver is running though her body at the feel of Brittany's warm breath against her ear. She presses her left foot down, shifting the bike into first before she slowly pulls back on the throttle, making the engine vibrate between her legs as she releases the clutch in one fluid motion. The bike makes a small rumbling noise as the RMP's rev past four and it starts to jerk forward a little. Santana panics for a second but Brittany keeps control, helping her hands maintain their place on the handlebars.

As the bike slowly moves forward out of the garage, Brittany's right hand drops to Santana's stomach and she pulls her close again as her left hand continues to direct Santana's hand on the clutch.

"Shift up once for second when you feel the bike hum just right." Brittany whispers and smiles as Santana shifts into the next gear smoothly. When Santana shifts it up a third time, Brittany releases her hand from the clutch and moves it down to squeeze at Santana's waist, burying her face into the crook of her neck and getting lost in the smell of melted chocolate, fresh vanilla and a Hawaiian sunset.

They coast idly down the abandoned street, keeping it around 45mph and not doing any drastic maneuvering, Brittany wants Santana to be comfortable before she tries any of that stuff. Santana seems to be getting the hang of it quite quickly, not to say Brittany is terribly surprised about that. She urges Santana to head back to the garage an hour or so into their little lesson, figuring she made enough progress for the day to warrant them both a little break for the day, seeing as how they've been up since the day before without rest or sleep.

When they pull back into the garage, Santana shifts the bike into neutral and is about ready to kill the engine when Brittany stops her from doing so. Instead, Brittany moves forward so her front is lined up perfectly with Santana's back, her legs propped firmly on the ground holding the bike up, Santana's ass pressed just enough into her center to have Brittany's heart thumping against her ribcage in anticipation.

"You've got to let the bike properly cool down before you shut her off." Brittany murmurs in Santana's ear as the tips of her fingers draw slowly up tan forearms, leaving goose bumps along every inch they touch. She trails over the dips of Santana's elbows, and skirts just under the sleeves of her t-shirt, feeling Santana tremble in her arms. Her breathing becomes ragged and Brittany can swear she can feel Santana's rapid heart beat through the thin fabric of her cotton shirt where her chest is pressed firmly into her back.

"Let her ease off slowly. Let her get used to you not handling her for a moment."

Brittany's words get raspier and quieter as her touches get bolder and more deliberate. She can tell that Santana has her eyes squeezed shut and her lips are slightly parted, allowing what air she can manage to slowly escape from her mouth. Brittany's lips ghost just barely over the surface of Santana's overheated skin at the junction of where her neck meets her collarbone. She breathes coolly on the spot and swears she hears a whimper escape Santana's lips.

"And then when she's all calmed down, rev her up one last time so she knows you're still there." Brittany whispers before she reaches forward and pulls on the throttle, making the bike hum extra loudly beneath them as the frame rattles with the torque and the vibrations shake their bodies. This time, Brittany does hear Santana whimper as she watches her lull her head forward, her breathing coming out even more rapidly now.

"That's how you properly ride her." Brittany's final words are punctuated by the action of her hand sneaking under Santana's shirt and her palm laying flat against her twitching abs. She presses into the toned muscles confidently as her thumb brushes in a circle by Santana's navel. Santana shakes a little in her arms before her hands shoot out from her side and quickly turn the bike off. Before Brittany knows what's happening, Santana slides herself from the bike and turns to face her with her eyes wide and her arms folded across her stomach. Her breathing is still rapid, but Brittany senses it's not only because Santana is quite obviously turned on.

"You never ask." Santana says almost in a whisper before she runs a hand through her wind swept hair. She takes a moment to pull through a few tangles in her pony before her eyes fall back to Brittany's, where she has been waiting patiently. Brittany shrugs and props the bike up on its kickstand before swinging her leg off and taking a few steps towards Santana.

"Figured that was part of the bargain." Brittany says with a coy smile. She knows she's pushing her limits every second of the day with Santana, but she really wants to break through those walls and share a sense of joy with the sexy woman, if only for a day. Santana's eyes narrow at Brittany's words.

"I haven't fully decided what the bargain entails. Let's just agree that one was made and you've so far kept up your end." Santana speaks fast and jumpy, as if she's got somewhere else to be and can't get there fast enough. It kind of hurts Brittany's feelings, but she's determined not to show it.

"And you'll hold up your end of the deal? Say sometime later today after we've both had proper time to rejuvenate and rest?"

She notices the way Santana gulps at her words. She doesn't think she's scared, just a little unsure of what might happen. Brittany smirks at this, if she only knew.

"If that's what you want." Santana replies, her hands now fidgeting with one another in front of her body.

"It's all I've ever dreamed of." Brittany says in faux sincerity as she turns to walk over to the workbench to grab some tools to tweak the sportbike for better performance. It's not to say that dreaming about Santana being at her beck and call isn't something she hasn't indeed thought about, she just doesn't want to get overly excited and give it all away just yet.

She's never fully positive where Santana stands with things. Which is why she's surprised to find Santana glancing over her shoulder with a coy smile as she walks towards the garage exit. Before she leaves she calls back to Brittany in a sweetly seductive voice,

"Later then. You can count on it honey."

Later cannot come fast enough for Brittany.

* * *

**Have you ever been on a streetbike behind (or in front of, whatever your flavor is) a really sexy woman and revved the engine while you sit there all badass like with her in your arms? If you haven't, I highly recommend it because you'll never look at a bike the same way again. Thanks again y'all for your amazingness! And to all the guests and accounts whom I cannot PM a personal thank you towards, thank you so much for your excellent reviews, I love reading each and every one of them! **


	11. Navigating the Curves

**Chapter 11: Navigating the Curves**

The first thing Brittany does in the morning (or in cases like today, almost the afternoon), after she's ya know rolled out of bed and gotten herself properly acquainted with the morning, is take a little walk over to her precious garage so that she may check on the status of the cars that dwell in the fine establishment. Sometimes, more often than not, Brittany waltzes to the garage with the intention of working on said cars, and other times she just really wants to check on shit.

This morning, she's got it all planned out to a T. She's going to work a little on her GT, and perhaps get the assistance of the insanely sexy Santana who has been lingering longer than usual around Brittany and her cars as of late. Every since that bargain between the two of them was struck up just a few days ago.

Things have been mightily good in the department of 'business' for the Pierce crew. With the successful boost of thirteen high end cars by Brittany's and Santana's crew respectively the other night, they easily have the means to drop a fly five hundred large into that sweet money pot that Jesse St. James is currently sponsoring. Talk about some big ass cash. Brittany likes the sound of that.

Everything would be cool as a Bay Breeze on a hot humid Vegas afternoon, if say when Brittany walks into her shop this fine afternoon, she's not met with the absolutely confusing, and downright unacceptable, sight of some greasy mechanic dude bent over the engine compartment of her car. She still says greasy, even if there really appears to be no grease whatsoever on the guy's long blue jumper just because it's easier.

But really now, why the fuck do people just keep letting themselves into Brittany's shop like it's not a big A deal?

"Hey you! What the hell?" Brittany questions to the intruder as she brandishes her trusty aluminum baseball bat from the corner of the shop. This grease monkey's sure as hell not going to just get away Scott free. Fuck that. But then the guy starts to turn around, and Brittany really needs to start taking a closer look at things because what she thought she saw is so far from the truth it's not even funny.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Brittany finds Santana saying as she turns around to face her. In Brittany's defense, Santana is wearing the mechanic jumper, you know the one that covers the person's entire body and has the little name badge thing on the left breast pocket. She's even wearing the damn mechanic hat! But all thoughts of that goes away the second Santana looks at Brittany, because she starts stripping it all off. And if Brittany thought Mechanic Santana was sexy, she's in for a whole different kind of surprise.

The first thing to go is that hat. Santana is very composed in her removal, and she does so with a delicate speed. Grasping the bill between her thumb and forefinger, Santana pulls that hat up and backwards, allowing her flowing dark locks to spill out from their previous confines and grace her shoulders. Then she gives a slow shake of her head (see previous: sexy). Brittany's pretty sure that her jaw is dropped so heavily that it's threatening to fall off.

The next to go, at an equally agonizingly measured pace, is the top part of the mechanic jumper. Santana starts by unzipping the zipper to just below her belly button and then she pulls the two separate sides apart, giving way to her torso that's tantalizingly covered underneath. She snakes her arms out of the sleeves and lets the top half fall to her hips, and then all Brittany is able to focus on is the super tight corset like leather top Santana is wearing that is seriously presenting the assets that rest on her chest.

What was Brittany thinking about again?

The very last thing that Santana does is shimmy the mechanic jumper down her legs, one by one, and step out of them to reveal skintight black leather pants with two-inch stiletto heels popping out of the ends. She removes the legs quite possibly the slowest, and when she tosses the three sizes too big jumper off to the side, Brittany can't believe that Santana, and all her sexiness, is what was hiding beneath that retched garment. She seriously needs to ban that kind of wear from her garage, particularly when it comes to Santana.

"You're quite predictable you know?" Santana's taunting voice draws Brittany's eyes from where they had been examining the creases in the leather at Santana's hips (sure, that's what we'll go with). Brittany shouldn't be surprised to find a smirk stretched across Santana's face, but there have been a lot of things lately that have been unexpectedly catching her unawares. Once the saliva returns to her mouth, Brittany can properly reply.

"I'm pretty sure I distinctively said that your fancy outfits belong nowhere near a garage." It's weak and she knows it, but it's all she's got right now. Santana just rolls her eyes in return.

"And I'm pretty sure that I said I didn't really care about that. I'm comfortable in this and I didn't hear you complaining just a second ago."

Suddenly it hits Brittany; Santana does this on purpose just as much to tease her as Brittany does the touchy feely stuff to well on push Santana's buttons. Deep down Brittany probably knew this all along, the elaborate game they've been playing because it's fun, but now she can see it all so clearly, and frankly, she's about done with the games. It's time to see if Santana can handle the real world.

Brittany's eyes turn predatorily as she sets them on Santana, and she briefly enjoys the moment she watches Santana drop her act as her throat bobs in nervousness. A smile spreads across Brittany's lips as she takes three giant strides towards Santana and in one fluid motion, grips her by the hips and hoists her up so her backside is perched on the edge of the open engine compartment. Brittany keeps her hands placed on Santana's sides so she doesn't fall into the car as she steps between her legs and presses their bodies close. She doesn't miss the way a squeak pops out of Santana's mouth, or the way brown eyes suddenly swirl with a dark desire.

"What are yo-" Santana starts to say but is immediately halted by a 'shuuush' by Brittany as she presses her forefinger against Santana's insanely inviting lips.

"Stop talking for a second." She says and Santana's heart thuds rapidly at the demanding tone. The rest of her body shakes, completely in the mercy of Brittany's hands. Brittany tilts her face in closer to Santana's, her warm breath blanketing the skin of Santana's neck, the ledge of her jaw, her cheek and just below her right ear, but she doesn't touch the skin. It's teasing in the most torturous of manners, but she needs to see how Santana reacts. She needs to know if she'll respond. By the looks of things, Brittany would say she's almost got a green light.

She brings her lips to Santana's ear.

"Tell me right now that you don't want this. That you don't want me to kiss you and I'll stop." She whispers and can physically feel the tremble that runs through Santana's body. It's a few seconds of desperate silence before Santana replies.

"I can't." It's so quite but Brittany hears it. She draws her face back so her eyes can lock with Santana's. The eyes are the windows to the soul right? And right now, all Brittany can read in Santana's is that she wants this, and she wants it a lot. She smiles and spares a glance to the full lips that are quivering and parted in waiting. Brittany rests her forehead against Santana's and breathes out raggedly for a second before she dips in and moves her lips closer.

"Wait." It's quite and scratchy, and Brittany again almost misses it but she restrains herself from moving forward as her eyes open and look questioningly into Santana's.

"I...I'm, I don't," Santana starts to say, her words choppy and stuttered. Brittany moves her head back far enough that she can properly look at her. Santana's eyes close as if giving deep thought to something and her lips purse. When she opens them again they are swirling with a cloudy apprehension that throws Brittany off.

"I don't know," Santana tries again, the words are still shaky but there's still no coherency to them. Brittany's hands smooth up and down Santana's sides, trying to reassure her that she can talk, and that Brittany will listen.

"Hey boss I thought you might like to see what I found." A masculine voice rings out from the hallway and Brittany feels Santana tense under her touch. She respectfully takes a step back from her, removing her hands from their place on Santana's hips, steeling her face into something that doesn't show how hurt and vulnerable she's feeling right now. A second later, a taller Latino man waltzes into the shop, a very bright and very pearly white smile pulled across his face and a certain sparkle in his amber brown eyes. He makes eye contact with Brittany and gives her a nod before turning his attention to Santana, seemingly not recognizing he has interrupted anything.

"Hey David," Santana greets, her voice cracking just enough to let Brittany know that she's not all okay about everything either. She slides her body off the hood area of car and brushes her pants off a little before running a hand through her mess of hair. Brittany puts a name to a face finally as she recognizes Santana's computer and technical guy David. He steps up to Santana and holds out a NOS can to her. Santana's eyebrows knit together in confusion as she gingerly takes the can and holds it in her hands. Her eyes flit back to David's with a certain curiosity.

"Can you see anything wrong with it?" David asks, a certain buzzing excitement about him. Like a little kid who has just discovered a secret that no one else is privy to. Santana takes a moment to examine the NOS can, turning it over and around carefully in her hands as her eyes remain focused on it. Brittany too is curious as to where David may be going with the whole situation, because as far as she can tell, there's nothing wrong with the can in general. Santana's eyes return to David's after her thorough examination, brows furrowed in question. He smiles back at her.

"You can't see anything wrong can you?" He asks and both Santana, and Brittany even though she technically wasn't addressed, shake their heads 'No'. Another smiles breaks out across David's face as he delicately takes the NOS can back from his boss's hands. He spins it around so the bottom part is facing up and then glances up at Santana again.

"Look closely, right in the center." He says and Santana tilts forward on her heels to look where David is suggesting. She doesn't see anything at first but after excruciating concentration she thinks she sees what appears to be the tiniest of spots in the center of the can.

"What is that?"

David nods his head, thankful that Santana has made the discovery he was hinting towards.

"It's a prick point." He says and this time Brittany's brow furrows in confusion and question. She tilts her head towards the electronics guy. Santana raises an eyebrow for David to elaborate.

"That tool you found earlier," David starts to say and Santana's eyes perk up in recognition. She lifts a finger as if to say 'Hold on a second' and spins on her heel to walk back over to the workbench area propped up next to the GT she was using while working on the car. She searches for a moment as Brittany watches her before apparently finding what she was looking for. Her hand stretches out and grasps a long thin looking straw thing. Something Brittany has never seen before. It's metal, about ten inches long and as thin as a paperclip. It has a little handle like thing on one end and fashions off into a deceptively sharp looking point. Santana walks back over to David and holds the tool up.

"I found this the other day when I was working on the GT," She explains as she turns to look at Brittany. "It was lying on the ground near the other docking area, small enough to be missed by any naked eye that wasn't searching for it. I didn't think much about it because I'd never seen anything like it before. I showed it to David and he looked into it for me." Santana continues her explanation while Brittany looks on at her, listening with rapture but still wholly confused about everything.

"What I found," David is now talking and Brittany glances towards him, "Was that this little _herramienta_ is what is commonly used in the auto business to pierce the cans of unused, expired or faulty Nitrous Oxide Systems. It allows the gas to slowly leak out of the can harmlessly. I've never heard of it before because that's not something we've ever had to use."

"Neither have we." Brittany finds herself saying. Her brain is suddenly spinning with a thousand questions. Why would such a thing be found in her garage? Who put it there? Has it already been used or was it planning to be used? Again, who put it there? Her eyes glance towards Santana who shares her worried expression. They share a moment of silence before Santana hands the tool over to David with a nod of her head.

"Thanks David, keep looking into it for me?" He nods his agreement before turning to leave the garage. When he's gone from sight, Santana turns back to Brittany and is about to speak aloud to her when Brittany instead runs a hand through her hair and turns her back to Santana with a grumble.

"What the hell is something like that doing in my shop?" She inquires out loud. Santana takes a step towards Brittany opening her mouth to speak when Brittany spins around towards her with fire in her eyes.

"And what the hell didn't you tell me about this sooner? Don't you think that's something that might have been important?" She accuses and Santana's face hardens.

"Don't you think I know that? I was waiting to get a definitive answer on things before I brought them to you. I wanted to know what it was so we could cut through the middle part of figuring it out." Santana cuts back. Brittany raises her hand and points a finger at her.

"That's not your decision. My garage, my rules!" She shouts and now Santana's eyes are icy cold. She struts towards Brittany and smacks her hand out of the air.

"Fine, have it your way. Forget about me helping you while we're at it!" She shouts back before turning with the intent to storm away. She doesn't get far because Mike and Puck enter the room and give both women questioning looks of their own. Puck walks near to Santana and reaches out to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, familiar with what his friend looks like when she's angry and hurt.

"What the hell do you want?" Brittany spits in their direction, her body trembling slightly in anger at how quickly things have gone to shit. Mike's eyes flash with worry at Brittany's tone. She can be hot headed sometimes, but he's never seen her this furious.

"Uh we came to let you know that Hunter got word St. James is throwing a special get together tonight. A race of sorts where the winners are individually and specially invited to the underground after party he's hosting. Figured it would be a good way to get on the inside." Mike explains. They weren't intended to, but his words just spark more fury in Brittany's veins. The last thing she wants to hear is how they're planning on infiltrating Jesse St. James's gang, it's too much to think about with everything else swirling in her head.

"Now is not a good time." Brittany speaks through grated teeth. She notices Santana's brow scrunch together.

"No offense Britt, but now might be the only time. I know you're the boss and all but it might be our only opportunity." Mike says as delicately as possible. There's a few seconds of silent fuming before Brittany finally shrugs her shoulders.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be happy about this." She says before she does something completely uncharacteristic. She storms out of her own garage, leaving the remaining occupants shocked and at a loss for words.

################

Brittany wishes she could say she's had the proper time to think over things and calm herself down. She's been sulking in the confines of her condo for the last few hours, so one would think she'd come up with something right? But saying that would just be a big fat fucking lie, so she's not even going to bother.

She's finding it hard to distinguish what might be worse right now; that she finally thought things with Santana would progress only to be halted by Santana herself, once again, or that Santana kept something crucial from her this whole time. Is she over reacting? No, hell no, she's got things right.

Santana should have told her. It's Brittany's garage, and anything that's found in it should be brought to her attention, immediately. So what if she wouldn't have had any clue what the damn mini ice pick tool was, she would have been in the loop about it at least. Maybe that's what hurts worse, that Santana didn't even kind of ring her into the loop until much after the fact. She thought she'd read the woman a little better than that. All the sultry looks, flirtatious winks, not so innocent touches. Granted, Brittany's been the one who's done most of the touching but still. She can usually read woman so well.

Santana's still a big damn mystery.

Maybe that's what bugs the most.

She sighs and plops down on her couch. She's exhausted thinking about this. What ever happened to the easy times? Find a hot girl, flirt her up, take her to bed and then not have to worry about anything the next day? At least not the worries that are currently wracking Brittany's brain. But Santana's so much different than any woman she's ever met. So much more special. So much more worth it. God, she sounds like such a sap. It's like she's talking about wanting a relationship with Santana, but she's not even sure if the woman would even go for anything like that.

Sure, she didn't react negatively to the kisses or touches, but Santana had been trying to tell Brittany something before David interrupted, and then they didn't get the chance to discuss anything afterwards because Brittany, because she…

"I walked out like a big sissy baby." She speaks out loud, huffing loudly at the remembrance of her childlike ways. She's stubborn though, and that kind of stuff doesn't go away in the blink of an eye. She likes being stubborn and gritty and dangerous. It's what keeps her alive. But still, she could imagine how the bonus of having someone like Santana around, someone who balances her, could be beneficial.

"Fuck!" Brittany exclaims slamming her fist down on the couch arm. This is all kinds of fucking confusing. She wishes her mom were here to talk about it.

Her doorbell ringing draws Brittany out of her stupor and she huffs slightly, she decides she doesn't really want to talk to anyone right now so she doesn't move from her spot. But then the ringing just gets annoyingly persistent. With a groan, Brittany lifts her body to her feet and clumps over to the door, jerking it open.

When Brittany opens her front door and surveys the sigh before her, she's sure she's died and gone to hell. Standing in her doorframe, accented by the twilight of near evening behind her, is Santana in sexy black pumps and devil red dress so tight that Brittany's almost positive she can make out the etched curves of Santana's abs through the material. Santana's eyes pop with the way her smoky eyeliner highlights the deep brown of them, and her lips are ruby red with that hint of smoldering kissability.

Brittany swallows thickly, almost all of her previous thoughts vanishing from her mind.

"Hi." Santana speaks timidly, so unlike the persona her current outfit radiates. Brittany quirks an eyebrow but she clears her throat.

"Hey."

Santana licks her lips and Brittany hates the way she watches her do it, and the way it causes her heart rate to speed up. Santana shuffles on the spot and Brittany recognizes it as a sign that she wants to say something but isn't quite sure where to start. Finally, Santana's eyes slowly gaze back up into Brittany's.

"We didn't really get the chance to talk earlier, about…things," She starts to say and Brittany remains looking at her with a blank expression drawn across her face. Santana seems to gather a little courage as she speaks her next words, "And I'm not going to apologize for certain things but you should know I was only doing it for your benefit. And furthermore, you haven't exactly been peachy perfect lately and I could say a whole bunch of other things that-"

"I know." Brittany cuts into Santana's rant, finding it hard not to think the woman might be just a little too adorkable for her own good. Santana's eyes lock on blue when Brittany interrupts her. Brittany rolls her eyes and sighs, for her anger to dissipate so quickly, there must be something else to Santana and why not take the time to stick around and figure it out.

"Listen, I don't do this much so don't get all cocky on me." Brittany starts to say and Santana raises her eyebrow in return, "I'm not saying that I'm sorry per se but it was a little…improper of myself to accuse you earlier. I realize now that you were just going through the same channels that I would have taken if the situation were reversed."

Brittany can see the faint hint of a grin twitching at Santana's lips, and for fear of being crippled with a debilitating immobility because she's so not used to apologies, she quickly continues.

"But I still want it to be clear that it's my garage, my rules."

Santana fights off the knowing smile that threatens to break out across her face. She thinks what Brittany's saying is fair.

"And as far as that other thing goes, don't think I'm done with that either." Brittany than adds. She wants to make sure that Santana knows that one way or another, she's going to get to the bottom of this whole tension thing that's emitting between them. Santana smiles softly and gives Brittany a nod. She thinks that's fair too.

There's a beat of silence before Brittany awkwardly clears her throat. Her eyes give a once over of Santana's outfit again, lingering a little on the curves.

"You sure you're going to wear that?"

Santana smirks.

"Yeah I think it will do its job." She says coyly and gets another raised eyebrow from Brittany.

"Let's hope it doesn't get you into trouble." She murmurs softly before turning around to grab her car keys. When she ushers Santana out of the door she takes a couple of steps forward before turning back to look at Brittany.

"White looks good on you by the way." Santana comments as her own eyes slowly rake up and down over the material of Brittany's own outfit, her waist high white pants with suspender straps and a casual off white colored shirt. Brittany looks at her curiously. It really is funny how quickly things turn around.

"It's what I wear when I feel like dancing." She says, all of a sudden feeling very playful. Santana smirks at her again before she leans in close to Brittany, her hands falling to her shoulders to brace her weight as she leans in and places her lips against Brittany's ear.

"If you feel like it, maybe you can come find me on the dance floor and show me what you've got." Santana's words come out husky and leave Brittany wanting more.

As Santana pulls back, she winks at Brittany before spinning around and walking away, leaving Brittany to stare at her very curvy backside as she goes.

God how quickly things change. Brittany has a feeling this party might be worth it after all.

* * *

**Thanks once more y'all!**

**Spanish Translation:**

_**Herramienta**_**: tool**


	12. Stilettos and Broken Bottles

**There's a particular character that makes an appearance here for a particular someone who specifically asked for them (and their name doesn't end in a Y). - Genie**

**Oh PS the rating has changed, I wouldn't necessarily read too much into it...it was just time. **

* * *

**Chapter 12: Stilettos and Broken Bottles in My Rearview Mirror**

In order to preserve their anonymity in terms of Jesse knowing who they are, Brittany and Santana decide to take separate cars to the designated race area just outside of old Vegas city limits, ironically only a few miles from the Pierce operation. Also, for obvious reason, they'll need their own cars if they hope to separately enter that race and respectively win. It'll be the first time Brittany will be trying out her GT, but she trusts the process that she and Santana have gone through with it, and she knows their modifications will run smoothly and execute perfectly. They do appear to be, after all, a well oiled machine when running together.

In order to keep both parties in the loop about all things that are going on, Jake, the muscle of Santana's crew, is riding with Brittany and Sugar is riding with Santana. And to top it all off, each nonracer is equipped with a handy dandy little walkie talkie, which despite Brittany's pleading, Jake has not let her touch.

"I just want to use it once. Just once." Brittany says from the driver's seat. She's the lead car guiding the rest of the combined crew to their intended destination. For this particular part of the plan, it's only beneficial to have Brittany and Santana (and their respective passengers), Puck, Mike, Cooper and Joe along for the ride. Four cars, four racers and better odds. Not that Brittany's worried about her odds; it's just nice to have that security.

"I'm sorry Ms. Pierce but there were strict orders from my boss saying that only the passengers would get the walkies. Wouldn't want to distract you from driving." Jake supplies in response to Brittany's plead. She frowns in return.

"You do realize that I'm the leader of the other half of the crew right?"

"Yes, Ms. Pierce but Ms. Lopez is my boss."

"What's with the Ms. shit? Were you in the military?" Brittany questions the guy, finding it very strange to be addressed so formally, especially by someone practically the same age as her.

"It's just proper form ma'am." Jake replies and Brittany quirks an eyebrow.

"You know what else is proper form? Letting a girl talk on a walkie. So, whatda you say? Hook a sister up?" Brittany tries to persuade Jake even more, but still it appears he won't budge as he gives her a short shake of his head.

"Sorry ma'am, I don't disobey orders."

"While loyal, your form sucks sir. Sorry to say." She grumbles just under her breath.

"Lil' Puckerman, how's the situation going?" Santana's voice suddenly comes over the walkie in Jake's hand. Brittany gasps as if completely scandalized. She can't believe that Sugar gave up her walkie so easy; she can't believe that she's flipping her shit over something like a walkie-talkie. Jake sends a guilty look towards Brittany before bringing the device to his mouth.

"Situation's good boss. Umm Ms. Pierce has requested to talk on the walkie." He mumbles, the last part a little quieter than the rest but Brittany still catches it. She scoffs.

"You're supposed to say 'over' when you're done talking!"

"If she wants to use the walkie Jake let her. But if she crashes, that's totally on her." Santana's voice then comes over the wavelengths and Jake nods, despite knowing his boss cannot see him. He hesitantly hands the device over to Brittany who smirks triumphantly and does an internal happy dance. Some things just really mean a lot in certain situations. She raises the electronic gadget to her mouth and presses the talk button, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

"Thanks angel face," Brittany addresses Santana and she can just barely hear the scoff the other woman lets out, "And just an FYI, Sugar you are so on mop duty when we get back. Over."

####################

As it turns out, the designated race area is just a simple abandoned warehouse parking lot that stretches a good half a mile on clean asphalt. When the Pierce and Lopez crews pull into the pit area, they are a little surprised to see more than a few cars and people there already, most of whom Brittany does not recognize. There seem to be a lot of out of town crews running this game tonight; word must have gotten out about the money pot. Lots of stuff at stake now, and she'd wager there could be a potential twenty mill in the metaphorical bag as of now. She lets out a low whistle at that thought, parking her GT in a vacant spot and watching as Santana's Nissan, Puck's Bugatti Veyron, and Mike's Lamborghini Gallardo (he likes them Lambo doors) pull up in the spots next to her.

As each individual steps out of their car, Brittany notices right away the attention they all seem to draw. In particular, the attention that Santana seems to draw. Not that she blames anyone for looking because Santana is a certifiable twenty on a scale of one to ten, but she's going to bust in some teeth if anyone does anything so much as a puff out of looking at her. Even then, they'd better keep their leering mildly appropriate, or Brittany's ready for a fight. Brittany tries not to let the fact that she's mentally preparing to lay a smack down on anyone who so much as looks at Santana, or so help him God touches her, when she's not even dating the woman. In fact, she's still not even close to being sure where they stand. Brittany just knows she doesn't want anyone else stepping in and thinking they've got a chance, not until her turn is full and worked out.

It's a nice little surprise to Brittany when Santana rounds her car and immediately takes a position next to her. Not so much looking as though they're together, but not exactly discouraging that thought from entering anyone's minds. As far as Santana is concerned, the sooner they can get this over with and get out of here, the better.

"Racers?" A voice inquires, it's much quieter than Brittany would expect to hear at such a supercharged place. There are tons of cars revving around them, and bass beats pumping out of makeshift speakers on the edges of the lot. Brittany looks up and is met with very unique hazel eyes and wavy ringlets of dark brown and streaked caramel hair. A second goes by where Brittany finds herself wondering if she knows this girl before Mike is, thankfully, speaking up next to her.

"Yeah. Four of us," Mike replies as he points to himself, Puck, Brittany and Santana, "We heard there was a few qualifying races going down tonight for some shot at a larger pot of cash." Brittany's glad that Mike spoke up because his words snap her back to reality. It wasn't so much that she was admiring the other girl, though if she's being honest it's not like that would be a crime either-plenty of things to admire there, but she was more than not shocked that she didn't recognize her. Brittany knows everyone in the Vegas racing world, whether they be racers, bunnies, fans or moochers.

But this girl before her is one giant ball of mystery, and not in the sexy 'want to get to know her more' way that Santana is for Brittany.

"I would say you've all come to the right place then. I'm Brooke, and Edgar over there," The woman who has formally introduced herself as Brooke says as she points off into the distance at her right, Brittany's eyes follow her direction and find a large muscle looking man with a bald head standing a few feet away from what looks like the entrance to one of the warehouses, "He can get you set up and registered for the race. Mr. St. James requires everyone to give proper identification and install a special computer chip in their car before the race."

Brittany's eyes are still examining the spot that Edgar is standing outside of, and she quickly notices that she's not the only one giving a really intense stare. The only difference? Edgar's stare is fucking one step past creepy and has entered into that menacing evil henchman look. Almost like he knows Brittany. She averts her eyes in the subtlest way possible and nods at Brooke.

"Thanks. I guess we'll head over there." She says and Brooke gives Brittany, and the rest of the racers a tight-lipped smile before moving on to the next round of people conversing in the area. With a glance towards Santana, Brittany finds that she too is tense and a lot uptight, probably not liking the situation any more than she herself. Brittany glances towards Mike and receives a nod in return.

"Alright, lets go register and get this shit done. The faster we're in that warehouse as opposed to outside of it, the faster we can get into Jesse's head and start bringing him down." She says and with vague nods of agreement from everyone else, they walk casually over to where Edgar stands.

##################

"You're not scared now are you pretty boy?" Brittany asks as she revs the engine of the GT once more, front tires on the edge of the starting line, three other cars lined up parallel to her, her now trusty buddy Jake sitting ridged in the passenger seat. He turns his light brown eyes in Brittany's direction, and steels his expression. Brittany admires him for his determination.

"No ma'am. I've just always been a little tense the moments before the race." He replies and Brittany grins.

"Why? That's the best part?" She exclaims, and her eyes focus on the trigger girl who walks to the safe zone area in front of the cars, bullhorn in hand ready to announce the start of the race. Jake swallows nervously next to Brittany.

"It also happens to be the part where, statistically speaking, things are most likely to go wrong." He mumbles and Brittany just laughs.

"Head up champ, you're riding with me. The only thing you have to worry about is holding your shit because we're about to go damn fast."

Jake doesn't have the time nor the drive to reply, however, because in the next second the starting signal is being given by the trigger girl and Brittany is slamming her foot down on the gas pedal as she tears her other foot off the clutch. She loves the way the GT's back tires spin as they take a moment to grip the asphalt and then catapult the car forward. She instantly takes the other cars by a length, and the rest of the race, as they say, is history.

Thankfully, Jake manages to hold onto his shit for the duration of the ride.

###############

Santana's Nissan is lined up at the starting line with the three other cars she will be racing, some three minutes after she witnessed Brittany and her GT burst out of the gate, figuratively speaking, and hurl down the quarter mile track. She has no doubt that even without the NOS that she and Brittany installed in the car, Brittany will have no trouble winning her race. They didn't exactly pit her against anyone too difficult.

"Oh this is so exciting!" Sugar exclaims from the passenger seat and Santana raises her eyebrow at the bouncing in her seat with overwhelming excitement girl. She kind of wishes that they could have left their passengers out for the racing, but apparently having someone else in the car is a common thing for Jesse during any of the races he hosts, sponsors, or participates in. According to him, it keeps the driver honest and makes sure they know they're responsible for the well being of someone else. In other words, it allows less dirty shit to go down.

Santana just thinks its fucking cop-out, but whatever, its Jesse's rules in this race. She just hopes that Sugar will not be too overly squeal like and distract her.

"Sugar, can you do me a favor?" Santana inquires as she watches the trigger girl step up in front of the line of cars in preparation to start the race. Santana glances towards the passenger seat and finds her passenger looking at her with rapt attention. Well, that's good at least.

"I know this will be exciting for you but I need you to try to be as quiet as you can. I'll need all the concentration I can get, and I'll need to be able to hear the engine noises to know when I need to execute certain things."

Sugar nods furiously.

"Okay, got it sure. Even though, like, I still think this racing thing is silly." She starts to say and Santana narrows her eyes at her. "Well not for you or Brittany of course, I just don't understand why some people have such ugly cars sometimes."

Santana has never been more thankful that it's common for her to race without her windows rolled down because she's sure that Sugar is referring to the less than attractive lime green old school, spinner wheeled, supped up Ford Taurus next to them. It's definitely not very easy on the eyes, but Santana does not need the driver knowing that she or her passenger think that. Especially before a race.

"Well, it's not always about how the car looks." Santana explains, finding it very strange that she's actually talking about this to Sugar. But she doesn't really get the chance to give it much thought because in the next second, the trigger girl is standing on the pavement in front of her car and is in the final stages of preparing to signal the start of the race. Now Santana is focusing all of her attention on the sound of the car humming beneath her.

Damn straight that purr is sexy.

When she opens her eyes the race start is signaled and she shifts the Nissan into first and blasts the car into action. Nine point eight seconds later, and one successful spurt of NOS usage, and Santana is passing the finish line in first place and joining Brittany in the winner's circle as they wait for Puck and Mike to finish their respective races.

It's a good feeling being first. It's a good feeling being first and earning that knowing smile from Brittany in the process. Santana's heart does an involuntary flip before she's back to being distracted by watching her acquaintances race. But her mind doesn't really stray too far from thinking about what it might be like on the dance floor later.

She just hopes she's prepared for that.

##################

"Congratulations to all of you. There were a fine number of racers this evening and it is my pleasure to welcome you all into the next step and the next level of my little soirée in your quest to earn that ever growing pot." Jesse St. James himself greets the small crowd of fifteen racers who successfully bested their counterparts and secured a spot in the winner's circle. Four of which include Brittany, Santana, Mike and Puck.

Brittany glances in Santana's direction to see her reaction to the greasy haired looking guys speech, satisfied when she sees a look of slight disgust crossing Santana's face.

"Now, if you all would be so kind to join me and my lovely crew, and some of our specially invited guests for the evening, in the warehouse where there will be lots of fine dancing, mingling and plenty of drinks to go around. I want to make it clear that I want to get to know each and every one of you personally because these next few races that I will be hosting won't only be a way for me to widdle out the really good from the not so great, but you will get the chance at the money and a spot, or two, on my crew where I can promise you, you will surely make more money than is in the pot if you do your job right." Jesse continues to address the crowd before he hops down from his makeshift stage and walks towards the area that Brittany witnessed Edgar 'guarding' earlier. The rest of the crowd begins to follow him into the warehouse.

As soon as they make it into the warehouse, Brittany and Santana, with Mike, Puck, and the rest of their respective crews following behind, are immersed in a world of techno beats and laser lights flashing across a bare but suitable dance floor. There's an area set up in the corner for a bar and some couches to lounge in. Brittany also takes note of the now one hundred plus people she doesn't know surrounding them. She feels Santana press into her from the side and she glances over admiring the woman in her skin hugging dress once again. In fact from this angle, Brittany can surely see down...

"Eyes up here, once again." Santana interrupts Brittany's gaze and quirks her eyebrow when blazing blue eyes meet her own. Brittany smirks.

"Sorry, they're hard to ignore." She says cheekily and Santana's eyebrow just rises higher. She's about to interject when Brittany leans forward and whispers in her ear, just above the music. "Can I get you a drink, maybe that dance?"

Santana takes a moment to size Brittany up before an easy smile straightens out her lips.

"You can get me a drink. I'll think about the dance." She says just as coyly back and Brittany can't help but chuckle slightly. She nods but before she steps away she leans in again to whisper hotly in Santana's ear.

"Trust me beautiful, once you see me dancing it will be hard for you to say no." And with that she turns around and makes her way towards the bar area. She's going to get Santana something sexy so she knows that Brittany's not playing around tonight.

#################

It takes Brittany a lot longer to get her and Santana's drinks than she anticipated it would, but the thought of sipping her beer as she watches Santana down her aptly named Screaming Orgasm will surely be worth the wait. Brittany has a few tingles running down her spine when she thinks of how much she'd like for that drinks name to become a reality in the case of Santana, and if she can just get her alone she knows it's bound to happen.

With a smirk on her face, Brittany turns back towards the dancing crowd and starts making her way through in the direction that she last left Santana. Unfortunately, it appears she left the woman alone for a little longer than she should have because when she spots Santana again, she is no longer by herself like Brittany previously saw her. Brittany finds her brain reminding herself that it would be unlikely that such an incredibly sex on legs type woman as Santana could ever really be left alone, especially in such a sweat filled, sex radiating place that the warehouse dance floor has turned into. But she's going to be honest when she says that she was not expecting to find Santana dancing quite so suggestively with a guy.

Brittany can say that she's glad Santana is at least moderately keeping her distance from this short, muscles bulging in all the wrong places, buzz cut looking creep, in spite of his astounding efforts to put his hands all over Santana's body. Brittany finds herself gripping the neck of her beer bottle just a little bit tighter, she does not appreciate this sleazy good for nothing guy one bit. Don't even bother mentioning to her that she has no idea who he is or that Santana's her own person, capable of making her own choices. All Brittany sees is red because someone else is trying to put their hands on Santana. She grits her teeth and strides forward with determination.

She reaches the guy who has his back turned to her, his hands still reaching out in attempt to place them somewhere low on Santana's hips whom, even though she too has her back to Brittany, is still very successfully dodging his efforts. Brittany watches for a second before she can't take it anymore, she takes another swig of her beer before reaching out and pointedly tapping the guy on the shoulder.

It takes a moment for him to turn around, but when he does he's wearing a sneer.

"Can I help you bitch?" He asks and Brittany's about ready to drop her chivalrous act and pound this mother doucher like the little shit he is. It's about that time that she sees Santana turn around, curious as to what might be happening around her. When she spots Brittany her eyes go wide for a second before they flash a pleading brown and Brittany knows that she's not going to win this one with a fight, even though accurately speaking she really could be kicking this guys ass.

"Listen here, ass face, I'm interjecting because you're being a douche, and I don't like douches. Beside, don't you know it's proper form to ask a lady before you put your hands on her?" Brittany says with a cocky raise of her eyebrow before she reaches out and literally shoves her drinks into the guys hands forcefully before brushing past him with a shoulder check and reaching her hand out to Santana. With a bow, and a kiss to back of her hand for additional incentive, Brittany smiles coyly up at Santana.

"May I have this dance, gorgeous?" She asks and Santana is, rightfully, a little stunned beyond the ability to deny Brittany, as though she would even want to, and thus nods her head and allows Brittany to pull her into her strong arms and glide with her onto the dance floor. Santana is not only incredibly surprised by Brittany's utter talent on the floor, but the way she moves in such a fluidly sexual manner sends shivers down Santana's spine. She doesn't think she's ever seen _anyone_ move that damn sexy. Brittany swings Santana wide before pulling her in close. She dips her lips to Santana's ear.

"May I hold you like this princesca?" She whispers and her breath leaves a tingling chill against Santana's ear. She nods and Brittany doesn't waste a second wrapping Santana's arms around her neck and placing her own hands low on Santana's hips as they sway to the fast paced beat and she rests their foreheads together. Brittany can see, out of the corner of her eye, the guy that was originally dancing with Santana huff from his spot a few feet away and then angrily storm off in the opposite direction. It causes Brittany to chuckle a little at the whole thing. When the beat slows down and turns a rhythm much more sensual, Brittany's hands dip lower still and a gasp tumbles from Santana's lips.

Brittany moves her face to nuzzle the skin of Santana's neck and smirks into the heated flesh before her hot breath coats a damp trail up the side and her mouth is at Santana's sensitive ear once more.

"Want to turn around and move those sexy hips?" Brittany husks into Santana's ear and a low whimper escapes plump lips and lights Brittany's body on fire. Santana nods slowly and is soon turning her body around in Brittany's still very close embrace. When Santana's back is to Brittany's front she raises her arms over and behind her head, locking them around Brittany's neck and splaying her fingers through fine blonde hair. She dips low, pressing tight against Brittany's front the whole time before shifting her hips back and grinding her ass into Brittany as she rises back up to stand straight. This time, the low whimper comes from Brittany's lips and Santana smirks triumphantly.

That is until Brittany's moist lips again breath hotly against her ear and that breathless husky tone slips from her mouth.

"May I touch you?"

Santana can't fight the way a steady thud beats against her ribcage and a pulse drops between her legs. She nods feverishly and her hands grip tighter at Brittany's neck. The next second, as Santana dips down again and presses into Brittany, slender pale fingers trail up her sides and round to the front of her waist before pressing in and ghosting ever lower. Santana's eyes are squeezed shut and her breathing is erratic as Brittany's hands continue down her body and Brittany's breasts press firmly into her back. She feels seasoned hands caress the creases of her dress where her hips meet her thighs before blazing fingertips graze the tops of said thighs, just below the hem of her dress. Brittany only lingers along the thread for a moment before one hand snakes back up Santana's body, palm flat against the material of her dress so Brittany can feel ever muscle spasm and every in of skin quiver as she racks Santana's body with the touch.

Brittany's lips drop to Santana's neck and ghost across the skin. They are way past pretenses and not even registering the beat of the music any more. Brittany's hand stops firmly pressed just below Santana's heaving breasts and this time when she speaks, it's into the sweet smelling tan flesh that is right below her lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

The heaviest involuntary shiver runs through Santana's body at those words, but still she manages to slowly nod her head and then succumb to Brittany's request as a cool palm is placed on her chin and Brittany tilts Santana's head to face her own. Santana's eyes are so dark Brittany's not even sure they're a color anymore, just a shade of midnight black. Her own eyes are no doubt swirling that twilight blue she knows they turn when the pulse that's running through her body can't keep up with the one her heart is hammering out against her chest. She glances at Santana's lips, her breath hitching as she watches a pink tongue poke out and slide across the plump bottom one. She swallows and tilts her face closer to Santana's.

Someone moans, neither is sure whom, when they're lips touch, and Santana's never felt something so soft in her life. Brittany's never tasted anything so heavenly in all of her years of kissing. Ever. Their bliss is short-lived because as Brittany goes to press harder into the kiss, her right hand sliding up to cup Santana's breast, her body is suddenly being forcefully and unexpectedly jerked backwards.

"Brittany Pierce of the Fatis Manus crew. I should have known only someone as cocky as a Pierce could have tried to step into my night unannounced and playing incognito." A voice is suddenly trickling into Brittany's completely Santana centric conscience. She spins around to find the curly haired, smug grinned looking pretentious asshole Jesse St. James staring down at her forearm of the hand that he still has a hold of. Brittany curses herself for being so careless with the display of her tattoo, half the time it's the surest way to pick her out in a crowd. She glances behind her to find that sleazy guy from earlier stepping up to Santana's worried side. Brittany grits her teeth and turns back to Jesse.

"You know, when Brody was informing me that the particular Ford GT you were racing tonight looked peculiarly like the one that was recently stolen from him I didn't want to think it was true. After all, who would be so stupid as to show up at a rival crew's party in a car that they stole from one of said rival's crew members? And then to interrupt him on the dance floor when he was dancing with such a pretty lady? Tut tut tut." Jesse says with a shake of his head and Brittany doesn't waste another second ripping her hand out of his grip. She stands up straight, she's not afraid of this bastard.

A little ways into the crowd she spots her crew, and the members of Santana's crew, moving through the throng of people and collecting on the edge of the circle that has now formed around Brittany, Jesse, Santana and sleaze face. She subtly shakes her head to Mike, indicating to him not to try anything. Keep his cover if he can.

"So tell me, Brittany Pierce, what's to stop me from dragging you off somewhere and beating some information out of you? You're on my turf, and you're breaking my rules and I find that I don't particularly like you." Jesse inquires, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look intimidating regardless of the fact that he's a good four inches shorter than Brittany. She notices that Brooke girl from earlier step up next to Jesse, a worried and fearful look on her face.

"That would be incredibly stupid considering my crew, and my brother, know where I am. If I don't return within the next hour, they'll come after you, and we aren't afraid to use a little force in the Pierce crew." Brittany informs him and then gets blindsided by a fist to her face. Turns out that sleazy guy (Brody) really is sleazy, since he punches people when they are unarmed and unaware they need to defend themselves. She briefly hears a sad gasp that comes from, she thinks, possibly Santana. Brittany falls to her knees and sees Santana take a step towards her but she locks eyes with her and pleads for her not to. Now is not the time to blow any covers.

She spits her mouth full of blood out onto the dance floor and wipes at her split cheek.

"Show her the door. She can walk home in those stilettos." Jesse then says before turning away and parting the crowd to walk through it. Brittany gets a moment before she's heaved to her feet by Edgar and some other muscle dude, they pat her down and find her car keys and then drag her out the door only to throw her onto the concrete that's littered with broken beer bottles just outside the warehouse.

"I'd start walking now before Jesse changes his mind. He's not a guy you want to be messing with." The Edgar guy calls to Brittany before he and his muscle friend turn and walk back into the warehouse, closing the large industrial door behind them. Brittany climbs to her feet and surveys her body. Nothing seems to be broken, just battered and bruised. Fuck the fact she decided to wear any kind of heel tonight.

Brittany should have known that this would happen. God damn her heart for lying on her sleeve, because it's when it is there that it always manages to get her in the most trouble. And now, even without a car to drive home in, it feels like she's seeing everything through a damn rearview mirror.

With a glance over her shoulder she starts walking in the direction of the Pierce residence, not knowing whether or not she's going to make it, and wondering what the hell she's going to find if she does.

* * *

**Once again, thanks y'all!**


	13. Burning Rubber in the Moonlight

**Chapter 13: Burning Rubber in the Moonlight**

Brittany's only walked maybe a half a mile when Hunter's Maserati pulls up next to her. She probably shouldn't be surprised, as Mike undoubtedly called Hunter the second he had the chance to and informed him of Brittany's banishment from Jesse's sight just previous moments ago. Brittany grits her teeth, she doesn't want to deal with this.

The window on the passenger side of the Maserati rolls down, and Brittany doesn't even have to look at the car to know that Hunter is looking at her with discontent and shame. Fuck him, he doesn't know anything about the situation and she doesn't really give a shit what he might think regardless. If he had a problem with it, he shouldn't have been such a douche and should have gone to the party and race himself.

"Brittany," Hunter's voice is stern and stoic. She tenses under the tone, more than ever eager to just run away. She doesn't want to deal with Hunter and his 'dissatisfied' attitude. She ignores him, but the car continues to creep along next to her.

"Get in the car Brittany." Hunter's next phrase is not a question, and there's no room for discussion or argument, but Brittany's going to do it anyway.

"I need the exercise." She tosses back, arms folding over her chest wishing she had had the foresight to wear something warmer, and a little more practical (but she's not complaining, she doesn't complain). Besides, racing in heels always makes her feel sexy. It's got a feminine vibe and it just reminds Brittany how fortunate she is to be a girl, being a racing badass in a 'man's world'.

"Brittany, you can run your five miles tomorrow when you're cleaned up and sober. Now get in the damn car."

Despite the fact that the proposition of walking the next six miles in heels doesn't sound to terribly inviting, Brittany would much rather do that than get in the car with her punk ass little brother. Unfortunately, he has other plans because a second after he speaks, he is pulling the Maserati into her walking path and stepping from the vehicle, Lauren stepping out from the backseat after him, giving Brittany an intimidating glare.

"Seriously Hunter, you brought Lauren along to coral me back?" Brittany asks incredulous. Hunter merely shrugs.

"I knew you'd have no other choice but to get in the car if I did."

Right now would really be a good time for Brittany to have the ability to shoot laser beams out of her eyes, or you know, have heat ray vision. She waits until the second that Lauren takes a menacing step forward before she throws her hands up in surrender and slowly walks over to the car.

"Fine, but don't expect me to fucking thank you for this."

**#################**

It's been twenty minutes, and even though Santana has a really high suspicion that Brittany's not going to come bursting back through those warehouse doors, guns blazing, anytime soon she's still holding out hope that something will happen. There's got to be anything besides what she just witnessed, Brittany getting sucker punched and thrown out of the party. Santana would really like to find Jesse St. James and give him a punch or two in his smirking little face.

She'd sure as hell like to punch someone, but first and foremost, she needs to know that Brittany's okay.

"Puck," Santana calls her friend over. He turns around from his spot leaned against the bar a few feet away and walks over to her.

"Call David, have him drive over this way and be on the look out for Brittany. Make sure she's okay." Santana tells Puck directly, and watches as he simply gives her a confused look but otherwise makes not motion to do anything she's asked. She raises her eyebrow at him.

"Did you not hear me?" She asks giving him the benefit of the doubt considering the crappy sound quality the warehouse they're surrounded by is affording them. Puck shakes his head.

"No San, I heard you I was just wondering why exactly you'd want me to do that."

Santana looks at him in bafflement, unwilling to believe that even Puck could be this dull and this disobedient.

"First of all, it's Santana. You know Hec is the only one who ever gets to call me San, and second of all, why the fuck wouldn't I be asking you to do that? Brittany could be out there in trouble and we'd never know." She emphasizes the seriousness of her words by jabbing a finger into Puck's shoulder.

"Brittany's a big girl Santana, she can handle herself." Puck merely says in reply.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? This isn't a topic for negotiation, and right now I could care less what your dead rodent flinging head has to say about it." Santana's eyes are big and burning red. If someone doesn't do something soon, she's not going to punch anyone; she's likely to burn the whole damn place to the ground.

Puck's eyes narrow in hurt but he begrudgingly pulls his phone from his pocket and dials a few numbers. Santana listens to his side of the conversation with their tech guy, glad that Puck didn't decide to be an idiot in that situation and waits for him to hang up the phone.

"Good, thank you." She says. Her tone is hard and edgy as she's having a really hard time thanking Puck at the moment, "How about we find Mike and the others and get out of here?" Puck is quick to nod at this, he turns from Santana and heads into the still thick and overwhelming crowd, that hums with conformity and smells like body odor, in search of the rest of their party. Santana is content waiting in the corner area of the warehouse, not expecting to have Brody approach her a few seconds later. He gives Santana a once long up and down, it makes her skin crawl and she involuntarily shivers.

"He your boyfriend?" Brody asks, his head inclining in the direction that Puck just went. Santana narrows her eyes, her mouth pulling into a look of mild disgust.

The question throws Santana off a bit at first, she's unsure of Brody's motivations for asking her but if any of her skills at reading boys work at all, she thinks she has a general idea. Potentially, this could be a good thing, if Santana's correct about Brody's intentions.

"Him? No, he's just another racer looking to score." Santana dives into her cover a lot smoother and quicker than she thought she could. In the back of her mind she's hoping that Brittany is okay, but right now she knows she needs to focus on their original plan, so that all that Brittany went through wasn't for nothing. Santana's still in the game and she still has a chance. Brody's eyebrow rises in curiosity.

"But you're not looking for that?" He questions. Santana smirks before flashing him a flirtatious look.

"I'm not looking for him, but I never said I wasn't interested in other racers." Her tone is seductive and low; it's the one she uses when she wants to manipulate someone into giving her what she wants. Because Santana always gets what she wants. Brody seems to react strongly to her sultriness, his own cocky grin covering his face as he nods.

"As long as a Pierce is not on your wish list, I think we can manage that." Brody tells her before he reaches out and wraps his arm over Santana's shoulder. She tries not to vomit all over his face, because seriously he a) deserves to get kicked in the baby maker for even thinking about referring to Brittany badly, and b) he smells like cheap bathroom cologne and dollar store aftershave. Not a good combination. She sucks it up though keeping her game face on.

"I'm about as interested in the Pierce's as Mike Tyson is at letting someone else look after his tiger." Santana thinks it's a pretty damn good underhanded comparison, but apparently Brody doesn't get it. No bother though, because he still nods in her direction like he agrees and eventually leads her to the real underground area, and Jesse's backroom operation, intent on letting her 'met the boss' and 'maybe get an invite to join his team.'

Looks like Puck and the gang are going to have to wait a little while longer. But Santana swears that if Puck didn't call David to make sure Brittany's safe, she'll be sure to use him as her own personal punching bag the next second she sees him to get all this stressful tension out of her body.

**#################**

Brittany's forever grateful that Hunter pulls the Maserati back into the front of the shop area some fifteen minutes later, having not said anything else for the remainder of the trip. That all goes to shit, however, when he decides to open his big mouth the second Brittany goes to step out.

"You might not thank me now Brittany but someday you'll realize I'm not here to make your life miserable."

Brittany turns in her seat, halfway getting out but still in the car.

"What the fuck does that mean? Why the hell would I ever be thankful, all you ever act like is a royal douche Hunter. The only reason I deal with you is because dad made me promise not to let you try to run the business on your own. He knew you'd fuck up if you did." Brittany calls back. The anger and hatred evident in her voice, she's so completely done with being pushed around by Hunter, her little brother.

Hunter's face morphs into one of complete contempt.

"I'm the one who's likely to mess up?" He asks, his forehead crinkling in anger, "What the hell would you call what happened tonight Brittan? You almost blew the whole operation, the operation, might I remind you, that was your fucking idea in the first place."

"Oh get off your righteous horse you asshole. It wasn't solely me who blew it." Brittany starts to defend herself.

"That's not what I heard. The way I hear it, you got too caught up in trying to get into Santana's pants that you forgot you were on the enemies territory. How could you be so stupid Brittany, to flash your tattoo around like that? If you'd spent more time thinking with your brain instead of your sex drive, maybe you'd get a little further along in life." Hunter says, stepping out from his side of the car. Brittany is quick to follow, stepping out and spinning around to look at Hunter across the roof of the car.

"I'm damn surprised that you haven't turned into your mother yet. All you ever care about is the next fuck, and you should know by now that that kind of behavior never got _her_ anywhere."

Brittany's sight turns red at Hunter's words. Never, ever before, has he ever stooped so low and brought her mother into the situation. He above everyone else knows that her mother is completely and utterly off limits. Brittany's veins pump with an even greater hatred. In one fluid motion, she turns and walks over to the side of her shop, quickly grabbing one of her many bats that are lined up against the outside of the door and spinning around to advance back on Hunter and the car.

For a second she relishes the flash of fear she sees in his dull green eyes. But when she raises the bat and then hesitates, Hunter merely laughs at her.

"Just what I thought. You can't do it, and I know you won't."

And Brittany can't, for the life of her she doesn't know why, but maybe it's because that's not the person her mother, rest in peace, raised her to be. But that doesn't mean she's shy in hitting everything. Exhaling a deep breath, she swings the bat down, satisfied when the sound of breaking glass meets her ears. She shatters the driver's side window of the Maserati, before turning to the front window and swinging hard as Hunter dives out of the way of her rage, screaming like a little sissy girl.

When her anger has turned to despair, and she doesn't have anything to hold onto anymore Brittany throws the bat at Hunter's feet.

"I hope you know what it feels like now." She tells him before spinning on her heel and brushing past the wide-eyed and questioning group of the mixed crews who have filtered from the building to investigate the noise outside. Brittany slams by them, not even giving them the second to ask any questions and rushes into her shop. Two minutes later, the garage door is opening and Brittany is flying by everyone on her Ninja, blonde hair blowing carelessly in the wind.

As far as Brittany's concerned, what more does she have left to care about now?

**#################**

When Santana pulls back into the Pierce 'base', followed by Mike and Puck, she hears a gasp from Sugar that immediately puts her on alert. It's not until she climbs out of her cars and surveys the area that she realizes something is terribly wrong.

On one end of the concrete area in front of Brittany's garage, Hunter's Maserati is parked, looking like it was in the center of it's own personal riot. To the left of the car, Hunter stands with a few of the Pierce crew talking to him. He looks angry, flailing his hands about. On the other side of the car, the rest of the Pierce crew, and Santana's crew, are conversing.

"Hey!" Santana yells and meets David's eyes as he looks up at her call. She steps out of her car and walks towards him with purpose. "What the hell is going on? Where's Brittany? Is she okay?" That's really the only thing she wants to hear and know right now. The rest of the whole shitfest can be settled and figured out when she sees that Brittany is okay. There's a lot of stuff they'll have to talk about.

David's brown eyes flicker a little with worry and he glances briefly in the direction of Hunter and his Maserati. Santana meets David halfway from her car and he lets out a sigh.

"Things are _no bueno_ Santana." He tells her, his Spanish accent heavy. Santana's heart constricts, David, like Hector's, voice only gets that authentic when he's seriously on edge about something. She glances in the direction of Hunter and sees that the man is staring at her intently, a look of hatred sunk deep in his eyes.

"What happened David?" She asks, her eyes glancing back to her friend. He shakes his head.

"Brittany went _loco,_ she beat the shit out of Hunter's car and then sped off." He says and Santana clenches her fists.

"Don't call her crazy David, or I'll personally go loco on _you_." She says, her tone unwavering and leaving no room for argument. David nods and bows his head.

"I'm sorry Santana, I didn't mean like her herself. I just meant she literally grabbed a bat and went crazy with it against the car." He explains and Santana's features soften a bit, she'd laugh if the situation didn't seem like there was so more much she didn't know about yet.

"Why'd she leave then? What happened?" She implores again, still not seeing the big picture. David merely shrugs, indicating he doesn't know. Santana nods in thanks and turns to storm over to Hunter.

"So what'd you do this time? You had to have done something for Brittany to wreck your perfect car we spent so much damn time on." Santana immediately lets the accusations fly, knowing that Brittany probably had a pretty damn good reason for taking a bat to the car, especially if Hunter was involved in any shape or form. Hunter grits his teeth and steps forward.

"Brittany's just being the spoilt brat she is. If she knew how to hold her temper we wouldn't be in this situation." Hunter says, thinking he can leave it at that.

"Oh grow a pair Hunter and admit it," A voice suddenly calls from behind Santana. She turns to see Quinn stalking towards them, a determined and serious HBIC look pulled across her face, her hazel eyes blazing with anger. "If you hadn't been such a dick and gone and mentioned anything about Brittany's mom, you wouldn't be in this situation. You crossed a line this time Hunter."

Santana's eyes bulge at Quinn's words and she spins back towards the younger Pierce.

"What did you say to her?" Santana demands, she may be smaller but she's got fire in her veins, and Hunter's not as man as he'd like to think he was.

"I told her that she needs to start thinking with her brain instead of her sex drive, because it didn't get her mother anywhere either. And then she picked up a bat and started beating on my car."

The way he says it so nonchalant, so like it's the most common thing in the world, sets a fuse off in Santana's body. She steps forward and grabs the lapel of his ugly dark blue sport jacket.

"She should have punched you in the face."

Hunter smirks. He's feeling rather cocky right now.

"She didn't have the guts to do that."

Santana's eyes narrow and she lays off on her grip on Hunter's jacket. He smirks smugly at her as if he's the king of the fucking world. He seriously needs to stop underestimating the woman in his world.

_Smack-crack!_

The sound of a balled fist connecting with the soft cartilage of a nose sounds between Hunter and Santana as she draws back her left fist and punches him directly in the face.

"_Ow!_ Fucking bitch!" Hunter yells, immediately falling to his knees and gripping at his nose as blood gushes from it.

"Brittany may be too good of a person to punch you, but I sure as hell am not. Don't you fucking forget it." She exclaims, her fist throbbing with pain but at the same time numb to it all. She spins away from Hunter's broken form, not giving anyone else a glance and rushes to her car, thankful that Sugar has exited from it.

Her tires spin and burn rubber in the next second as she peels away from the Pierce 'base' and off in the one direction she thinks Brittany might have gone. She's only hoping she can find her before it's too late.

**###############**

Santana gets to Red Rock Canyon a lot quicker this time around because she doesn't give a fuck about anything else. Her heart is pounding with adrenaline from punching Hunter, and fear for the possibility of not being able to find Brittany. If she can't find her, what will happen? She can't think about that. She presses the pedal further to the floor and grips the wheel tighter.

As she pulls onto the path that will take her past the entrance sign, Santana lets out a sigh of relief as she spots Brittany's Ninja parked near the sign and a figure sitting on top of it. She parks her car next to the bike and after taking a deep breath she slowly climbs out.

"Britt?" Santana calls to the figure on the sign, but Brittany doesn't turn around. Santana walks slowly around until she can look up at the woman and evaluate her current mood. Her heart squeezes a little as she sees obvious tear tracks glimmering off Brittany's cheeks in the moonlight and pale blue eyes void of any happiness. Santana takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair. She's not entirely sure how to approach this situation, she's never been good with feelings, but she knows she owes it to Brittany to at least try, she'd hope to get as much in return if the situation was reversed.

"You know, Hunter's an asshole," Santana starts to say taking another step closer to Brittany. She watches as Brittany merely shrugs her shoulders but makes no effort to reply. "You should be glad you don't share the same mother, because his was obviously a bust."

Brittany scoffs and a look of resolve comes over her face, Santana can see a vulnerable but still guarded look in her eyes. Brittany hops from the sign and takes a step towards Santana with a certain fire in her composure, but it's not directed at Santana.

"You say that," Brittany begins, her eyes looking directly into Santana's, "but my mom was a stripper. How does that make me any better?"

Santana is a little thrown off by Brittany's confession. She can honestly say she wasn't expecting that but then again it kind of makes since why Brittany is so closed up and tight-lipped all the time. She's embarrassed that her mother had a career that even in today's society is sometimes frowned upon. But Santana doesn't agree with that and as she shakes her head, she's strong-minded to let Brittany know this. She should never think herself inferior for any reason, but especially that.

"Just because your mom made money by taking her clothes off doesn't mean she was a bad person. It was something she chose to do, but it didn't define her and it certainly doesn't define the person that you are." Santana tries to get her point across to Brittany by stepping in front of her and pressing lightly on her shoulder. Brittany's eyes are still guarded, and Santana sighs heavily and looks off into the distance beside her.

"Do you think that because your mom had a career like that, that if you don't do something with this crew, you're not going to amount to anything in anyone's eyes?" She asks, when the thoughts settle in her head and she turns her eyes back to Brittany. Blue eyes flicker with thought before Brittany shrugs again.

"Maybe I don't, but Hunter does."

Santana lifts her hand and brushes a lock of hair out of Brittany's face and gently soothes her fingers over the cut on her cheek, delicate in everyway, and it makes Brittany's heart hammer against her chest, desperate for more. She takes a light step forward now fully aware the Santana's presence does more for her than just turn her on.

"Like I said, Hunter's an asshole."

Brittany chuckles little, for some reason the more that Santana surrounds her the calmer she feels. It's that incessant pull she's been feeling since the start, the one she knows she shouldn't deny because it's inevitable, it was fated for her and Santana to met, and it's surely fated for her to feel this way in light of that.

"I'm really sorry for what happened at the club." Brittany's subject change completely throws Santana off, she wasn't expecting it, and she certainly doesn't think that Brittany has anything to apologize for. Without really thinking, she steps forward and grasps Brittany's hands in her own, drawing their faces within an inch of each other. She shakes her head.

"No Brittany, you don't have anything to apologize for. I wanted so bad to punch Jesse and Brody right in their dipshit faces the second that happened, but I didn't want you to have had to sacrifice things just for me to blow our cover."

Brittany smiles, she can totally see Santana punching Jesse in the face, it's cute and immensely hot all at the same time. She shifts her hands around so that their fingers slide between each other and their hands lock together.

"It would have been nice to see you punch them, but yeah it's probably good you didn't." She says, still a little bitter about the whole situation. Santana's stomach flips at the way Brittany holds her hands, it's so gentle and quite the opposite of how Brittany and her normal tough exterior act, it's incredibly endearing, and it sends a tingle down her spine.

"You know, I punched Hunter." Santana starts to say and Brittany's eyes snap up to hers with a 'really?' look in them. Santana smiles and nods, "Pretty sure I broke his nose." Brittany laughs out loud at this, throwing her head back and drawing Santana's eyes to the expanse of her neck. When she drops her blue eyes back to Santana's, they're sparkling a shade darker, one that is reflected in the deeper shade of Santana's own eyes.

"I think I'd really like to kiss you right now." Brittany says but before she can even finish the sentence, Santana's lips are on hers, warm and soft like a fucking cloud pulled out of the sky. Brittany's balance falters a little at the way Santana leans into her, but she catches her quickly and manages to press firmly back into the kiss, her eyes sliding closed at the feeling and taste on her lips. This kiss is so much better than the two she basically stole before, maybe because this time she knows Santana wants it just as much as she does.

Santana sucks Brittany's bottom lip between her own before poking her tongue out and tracing over the softness of it. Brittany meets Santana's tongue with her own, dipping into her mouth and swiping at the roof of it. Santana moans at the dominance and grips at Brittany's hands tighter, pressing in further and angling her mouth to kiss her deeper.

Deep kisses turn into soft pecks as they both struggle to catch their breaths, Brittany nipping lightly at Santana's top lip as they pull apart. She tugs Santana closer until their bodies are pressed together and stretches out to kiss her nose.

"I'd really like to hear how you punched my brother in the nose." She whispers against Santana's lips and earns another kiss, enjoying the way she can feel Santana smile against her mouth in the process.

##################

Brittany glances over at Santana from her seat, and smiles when Santana matches her stare. They spent the last few hours just talking, about what went down on both of their ends after the club, and then how they both got to the canyon. Even though this is completely out of Brittany's element, she's glad that for once in her life things feels right. Everything about Santana screams at her that it's right. And she's more than okay with that.

Without really thinking about it Brittany reaches out and grabs Santana's hand from her lap, dragging them both to the center console and slipping her fingers through the gaps of warmed tan skin. She smiles briefly at the softness of Santana's hand, and the beautiful contrast of her caramel skin against Brittany's own milky white. She doesn't think there's ever been a better combination. Like coffee and vanilla, and delicious as hell.

When she glances up, Santana's eyes are regarding her with a simple curiosity. In no rush for any answers or explanations, just enjoying the feeling that she's currently enlightened with. Brittany winks at her and Santana rolls her eyes and chuckles softly. Something comes over Santana in that moment that drives her into action. After sharing a few minutes of comfortable silence, and lingering stares, Santana's throat bobs with a nervous smile until she shifts in her seat to face Brittany, blue eyes watching her every move.

She studies Brittany intently her eyes gathering every feature on her face. She's amazed at how effortlessly beautiful Brittany is, even after everything she's been through, just today. She slowly reaches out and softly strokes her fingers, again, over the bruise and cut on Brittany's cheek. When she attempts to pull her hand back, Brittany's own reaches up to stop her, gently placing Santana's palm against her cheek and leaning into the touch.

It breaks that damn inside Santana again and she's quickly crawling over her center console and settling onto Brittany's lap. Brittany smiles up at her knowingly, and Santana simply rolls her eyes at her.

"Oh shut up." She says and Brittany just grins wider.

"I didn't say anything gorgeous." She banters back and Santana shakes her head and cups her cheeks, leaning down until their lips are a centimeter apart.

"How about we keep it that way for a few minutes." She whispers against Brittany's trembling in anticipation lips before surging forward and connecting them, swallowing the hot moan that Brittany releases at the feeling of the kiss and the way Santana rocks her hips down into her own. Her hands are quick to find purchase on Santana's hips, as tan hands find their own way into blonde locks, soothing and caressing as her tongue works wonders on Brittany's mouth.

Santana gasps for a breath that Brittany refuses to give her, only to feel Brittany's lips against her neck a second later.

"Do you want to go back to my house?" Brittany husks against Santana's flesh, heat pooling in her lower stomach, desire pulsing between her legs as Santana's hands grip at her hair and her nails scratch at her scalp. She knows Santana feels the same way, with her breath hot and heavy against her lips and Santana's body trembling in her arms. Instead of an answer though, Santana giggles against her lips. Brittany pulls her face back and frowns.

"Well, since you asked me so romantically." Santana teases, her finger bopping Brittany's nose lightly as she gives her a sultry wink. Brittany rolls her eyes and palms Santana's ass in her hands in one quick motion, eliciting a squeal from the girl above her.

"Don't worry angel face, we'll save the romance for later. Right now, I want to get you home and show you something else." Brittany replies with an equally sultry look and Santana's sure that she's never been so ready for that race in all her life.

* * *

**And that's the end of the chapter! The next one is going to be SUPER juicy if you know what I mean, but I must sadly inform you that I am heading out to go on vacation tonight and I won't be back until sometime next week. Rest assured though, this next chapter will be totally worth the wait. In the meantime, I've written a handy little completely nonrelated one-shot (called Giddy Up) that may help to alleviate some growing desire to see these two girls together. Either way, thanks again y'all. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts.**

**PS. Hunter is, in fact, an asshole. **

**Spanish Translations (just in case):**

_**No bueno**_**: no good  
**_**Loco**_**: crazy **


	14. Roll the Windows Down, It's Getting Hot

You know I was thinking, wouldn't it be funny if in this chapter, since I promised you all it would be really JUICY, the girls just sit down and have a nice pleasant conversation over a few assortments of juices? Haha, wouldn't that be great?

...Hello? No? Okay I won't do that to you then ;)

And a GIANT welcome to all the new AWESOME people out there, thanks for joining in and I hope you enjoy!

**Warning:** This chapter contains some probably NSFW stuff. Laying it down for y'all, there's a lot of sweet lady sex. Just a heeeeeads up ;)

* * *

**Chapter : Roll the Windows Down, It's Getting Hot in Here**

Santana doesn't usually have this much trouble navigating her car. Then again, she also doesn't usually have a ridiculously eager woman pressing hot kisses down her neck and stroking long slender fingers seductively up and down the forearm Santana needs to shift gears.

Fuck though, she's not complaining.

"Uh-mmm, Santana we'd better almost be there. I'm about to rip your clothes off right here and fuck you in the backseat of your car." Brittany hums into the skin of Santana's neck, where her teeth nip and her tongue soothes the burn. Santana groans as her arousal builds low in her abdomen and a pulse throbs between her legs.

There's a tire squeal as Santana jerks the car onto the concrete outside the Pierce shop and slams on her breaks, shifting the car in neutral and cutting the engine. Once both hands are free, she cups Brittany's cheeks in her palms and surges forward capturing her lips in a sizzling kiss. Santana bites at Brittany's bottom lip, then sucks on Brittany's top lip and both of them moan and pant into each other's mouths.

When Brittany starts leaning back into her own seat, Santana is quick to follow, shifting her legs over the console to take her favorite seat, straddling Brittany's legs and resting firmly on her lap. Brittany moans as Santana settles down on top of her, her hands shifting down to grasp at a firm, magical ass. She squeezes and earns a harsh bite to her lip from Santana who falls further into Brittany at the intense pleasure that's coursing through her body.

Brittany's bare hands are smoothing up Santana's thighs as her dress rides up and her hips continue to roll as the contact. It's hot, everything's so hot and Brittany's hands feel like fire on her skin-good burn fire, but a fire nonetheless.

"I think we need to get you out of this." Brittany whispers along Santana's jaw as she presses wet kisses there and her hands cup Santana's ass under her dress, tugging it up further. Santana shivers at the touch, and at the way the cool air hitting her skin suddenly turns hot under Brittany's proximity. She nods and grips Brittany's face in her hands again to direct those perfect pink lips back to her own, fitting the bottom one between both of hers and sucking lightly.

Santana can feel Brittany's blunt nails dig into her flesh as her lips continue to nibble and suck, and she pulls Santana closer until their bodies press together tightly. The next thing Brittany feels is fingers gliding through her hair, and massaging her scalp and tugging on the ends to adjust the position of her mouth or to keep her head from moving. When Santana grips harder as her tongue licks across Brittany's lips, she scrambles to open her door while Santana's tongue caresses her mouth.

The door finally swings open with great, and uncoordinated, effort from Brittany and keeping her mouth pressed to Santana's and her hands on that fine ass, she slides her legs out of the car and places them on the ground. Removing one hand from under Santana's dress to anchor behind her, Brittany pushes herself up and out of the car, stumbling just a little as she keeps Santana, who is quick to wrap her legs around Brittany's waist, in her arms.

"Omph!" Brittany breaths heavily when the force of Santana's kiss pushes her back into the frame of the car. She gets her balance, breaking for air for only a second, before she moves around to the side of the hood of the car. Leaning back, Brittany's hands return to Santana's body, holding her up while at the same time sensually exploring every insanely toned piece of muscle on her.

Brittany's feeling like she could do this all damn day, kissing and touching Santana, but she has to admit she is really looking forward to what might happen next. Which is why it sends a certain thrill through her veins when Santana pulls back from the kiss and shifts in Brittany's arms to set her feet on the ground. Shaded brown eyes stare at Brittany with so much attention that Brittany has to close her eyes a moment before she gets completely sucked in.

She'll keep telling herself she hasn't already been.

Her eyes are still closed when she feels Santana's hands glide down her sides and curve around to her backside. Brittany sucks in a sharp breath as her heart thuds in anticipation and Santana is quick to smooth her hands over the curve of Brittany's ass and pull her into her body. There's a moan that drops from Brittany's mouth she had no idea was waiting to be released, and the second she feels Santana's lips on her neck another one starts to bubble up from somewhere deep inside her chest.

"_Fuck_, Santana." Brittany groans as the woman's lips suck on the spot on her neck that never fails to get Brittany's panties incredibly wet. She drops her own hands back down to the hem of Santana's dress and just briefly gets to tease her fingertips across the smooth skin when Santana's fingers are wrapping around Brittany's wrists and jerking those hands up and away, only to pin them down on the hood of the car at Brittany's sides. That draws another moan from Brittany's mouth. And then Santana takes it one step further by pushing Brittany back to slide up and sit on the car before shifting her legs apart to step between them.

Santana leans in close to Brittany, still keeping her hands pinned at her side, and gives her a look of question. Brittany leans forward in an attempt to kiss Santana again but she gets denied when the woman pulls back out of her reach.

With a knowing smirk, Santana shakes her head, "Uh uh, you've got to promise me one thing before I kiss you." She rasps into the air between their lips, only inches apart. Brittany groans at Santana's tone, the smoky deep edge to it sending sparks of pleasure through her. She pants heavily but manages to shake her head. Santana leans closer.

"I'm sorry but what was that?" She breathes hotly into Brittany's ear her hips shifting forward enough to push her breasts against Brittany's and their covered centers to connect. Brittany gasps and her body jerks, but without the use of her hands she's helpless to draw any more friction or pressure or anything that she needs. Santana's lips return to that spot on Brittany's neck, but they ghost over it, never putting enough suction on it and keeping Brittany in a perpetual state of almost pleasure.

"All you have to do is say you'll promise, and you can stop this torture." Santana husks again, her tongue tracing over the shell of Brittany's ear. Brittany's hands clench tightly in Santana's grip, she struggles to lift them, but the way Santana's got her on the hood and is standing between her legs, gives Brittany little control.

"I..can…make…you…feel…better…" Santana purrs in Brittany's ear, punctuating each word with a kiss to some part of Brittany's jaw, neck or ear. Brittany chuckles through her whimper, she's not about to give up. Her eyes flutter open, hazy, and she glances at Santana with a smug smirk and a raise of her eyebrow.

"You're gonna have to do better than that princesca." She taunts, despite being desperately ready for more, and sees the fire burn in Santana's eyes at being denied so easily. Before she can even process what's happening, Santana's left hand is wrenching Brittany's right arm behind her back, not painfully but with enough force to get her attention, and the nails of Santana's right hand scratch slightly down the side of Brittany's neck and run over the base of her head where she grips the hair that rests their tightly. Santana's lips return to Brittany's ear as her hips shift forward into Brittany's.

"If you want to feel anymore of me than the little you can now, and you know what's good for you, you'll listen to me."

Brittany's heart hammers at Santana's words.

She's thinking about a reply when Santana's hand in her hair suddenly drops to cup her sex on the outside of her jeans. Brittany's not expecting it at all and the sudden pressure against her aching core causes a desperate moan to fall from her lips and her head to drop forward in pleasure. Even she didn't realize how turned on she was, but now she can feel the way her panties are sticking to her and Santana's fingers are teasing along on the outside.

Brittany weighs her options and she decides that sex now seems like a good plan, even if she has to give in at the moment to get it. But Pride be damned, Brittany's never wanted anyone as much as she wants Santana.

"Hmph, okay I promise. I promise."

Santana smiles wickedly in front of her, instantly removing both of her hands from their position, causing Brittany to groan in the process as she drops them to jean clad thighs and smoothes her palms up and down the twitching muscles. She leans in and presses a wet lingering kiss to the ledge of Brittany's jaw.

"That's really all I needed to hear." She whispers against the skin before pulling back completely. When Brittany manages to open her eyes, Santana has already dashed several feet away from her and looks to be heading towards her condo. With a smile, and the feeling like she's back in the game, Brittany jumps from the car and gives chase.

She catches up to Santana just outside her door, wrapping her hands around a slim waist and pulling Santana's back tightly against Brittany's own front. She steps close to the door so that Santana has to reach her arms out and brace herself as Brittany grinds her hips into her ass.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away that easy did you?" Brittany husks into Santana's ear, her warm breath blanketing the tan skin of her neck. One of her hands slides back down to the hem of Santana's dress and she starts tugging it up, Santana gasps at the action and struggles to move but realizes that it's hopeless. She pants as Brittany's fingers tease over the apex of her thigh before they trail down the inside of one only to repeat the same torturously slow process on the other side.

Brittany's lips are pressing kisses to every part of Santana's shoulder that is bare and exposed, and her hand comes up briefly to shift away long dark locks as her lips move up and kiss the nape of Santana's neck. When her hand drops back down, she presses it firmly against Santana's stomach, feeling her abs twitch under the material of the dress as she successfully pulls Santana's body firmer into her own.

"You're so fucking sexy like this." Brittany moans into the skin of Santana's neck as she notices the way Santana has completely given control over to Brittany and her hips are rolling in slow subtle waves, begging for more. Brittany sucks in another sharp breath at the sight, her own arousal spiking and a tugging making itself known low in her abdomen. With great effort she stretches forward and opens her door, catching Santana before she falls as they both tumble into the condo.

Santana's eyes immediately shoot to the bed in the corner of the loft style condo, the pulse between her legs pounding harder as she considers that might be where she's headed in less than a minute. At least, it'd had better fucking be. She's about done with this teasing, regardless of the fact she may have started it all. She manages to turn in Brittany's arms when the other woman is briefly distracted by trying to kick her front door closed, and as soon as blazing blue eyes meet shaded brown, Santana is pulling Brittany forward into another heated kiss.

Brittany's tongue is the first to slip past parted lips, and she strokes the roof of Santana's mouth, massaging the length of her tongue and pulling it into her own mouth to give it a brief suck and draw another moan from the other woman. Her hands find their place on Santana's hips and she walks them towards the backside of her sofa. When Santana's butt connects with the leather of the furniture, she's quick to grip at the hem of Brittany's hoodie and tug upwards. Brittany pulls back from the kiss to allow the top to be pulled over her head before her hands return to Santana's hips.

Bending at the knees, Brittany leans down a little to hoist Santana up onto the back of the sofa, where it's her turn to spread her legs as Brittany steps between them, tilting her head to deepen the kiss and stroking her hands up and down Santana's side. Tan arms wrap around her neck and toned tan legs around her waist as Santana dips her tongue back into Brittany's mouth and caresses the curves of her teeth. A moment later she quite impressively unbuttons and unzips Brittany's jeans in one fluid motion, but Brittany stops Santana's hand the second she tries to snake it underneath the tight material.

"Uh uh, you're mine first." Brittany murmurs against Santana's lips as she pulls Santana's hand away from her center and tugs it behind her back, in much the same way Santana had done to her earlier. This time, however, Brittany also grasps Santana's other hand and fits it behind her back, when she's satisfied, Brittany gets a firm grip on both of Santana's hands and holds them in place pressing them firmly into the small of the other woman's back. Santana moans and her hips jerk forward when Brittany's free hand drifts back down to her bare thigh. After a few teasing strokes across the heated skin, Brittany smoothes her palm up Santana's thigh and pushes at the bunched material until the dress sits firmly scrunched up at Santana's waist, exposing her black thong to Brittany's appreciative eyes.

Brittany's thumb strokes back down the apex of Santana's thigh, causing the other woman to cry out in restrained desire as the digit comes so close to her aching sex. Brittany groans and her head falls to Santana's shoulder as she feels the heat that radiates between Santana's legs, and the exquisite wetness that can be seen by the dawn light that's beginning to filter in through Brittany's blinds. Santana's arousal has easily drenched through the material of her thong, and Brittany can smell the sweet scent from her position at Santana's neck where she has returned to pressing kisses against the skin as her hand teases up and down tan thighs.

"Oh uh, Britt." Santana whimpers, her moan pleading for that desired release. She's powerless to stop the way her hips are bucking, searching for any sort of pressure or friction or touch, her hands trembling in their hold behind her back, desperate to grab onto Brittany and pull her closer. "Please." She begs and Brittany smirks against her neck, drawing back slightly to look Santana in the eyes. She moves her fingers over the soaked material between Santana's legs in the process, her fingers teasing across the hard bud she can already feel beneath it.

"Please what Santana? I thought you were a master at this?"

Santana's mouth drops open in a silent moan as Brittany's fingers put a little pressure against her throbbing clit.

"Now you know what it feels like." Brittany's words filter softly into Santana's ear, "It's not so fun now is it?"

Santana grits her teeth, trying to starve off the pulsing of her sex. She should have known that Brittany would turn around and tease her ten times as worse. Karma's a bitch sometimes.

Brittany presses a kiss to Santana's jaw, her fingers dipping down to press where Santana's entrance is practically drowning in her arousal, pressing the soggy material into warm heat and curling her fingers against Santana's core. Santana rocks her hips again, the pace Brittany's set absolutely maddening.

"Patience beautiful." Brittany sighs against the shell of the woman's ear, her own eyes fluttering closed at the slickness that's coating her fingers, even through a thin piece of lace. She draws back after sensually pecking Santana on the lips and waits for eyelids to flutter open and give way to those brown eyes she's quickly finding herself continuously drowning in.

She smiles when Santana finally looks at her.

"Now, it's your turn to make me a promise."

She doesn't even have to finish the sentence before Santana is nodding her head in furious agreement. Brittany smirks triumphantly.

"If I let your hands go, you have to keep them at your sides until I say so."

Santana nods again and Brittany halts the movement of her fingers between the woman's legs, leaning in until their lips are a breath away.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I promise. I won't move until you say!" Santana practically cries and Brittany grins her approval, her fingers returning to their torturous circles of Santana's sex as her other hand slowly releases Santana's hands from behind the woman's back. When Brittany is satisfied that Santana isn't going to move her hands, she slides her own hands up smooth thighs, feeling the muscles flex under her fingertips, and hooks her thumbs in the band of Santana's thong.

With a seductive wink to Santana, Brittany slowly starts dragging the garment down Santana's legs, her heart fluttering at the sight of the other woman raising her hips carefully off the sofa to aid the process. As Brittany's hands continue to slide the thong down Santana's legs, her eyes focus on the glistening sight between those legs. Brittany swallows heavily at the fact that Santana's wetness is still very much apparent and has coated the insides of her thighs.

The thong is removed and tossed to the side and Brittany takes a step forward, her eyes still locked on that gloriously tasty looking sight just waiting to be touched by her. Santana's stomach is quivering in anticipation and she watches Brittany admire her, with rapt attention. She's fairly certain that no one has ever looked at her with such desire before. It's like she's the last piece of homemade pie at the Ma and Pa corner dinner, and Brittany's the one that gets to savor her.

"Britt." She breathes out, the anticipation killing her. Brittany's shaded, dark blue eyes glance up her way and a coy smile stretches across moist pink lips. Brittany quirks an eyebrow as she stretches her hands back out and runs them up the length of Santana's thighs, brushing over the apex and then angling up to tease just under the bunched material of the dress. She leans in and presses kisses from one side of Santana's face to the other, before pulling Santana's bottom lip between her teeth and tantalizingly nibbling on it.

Santana whimpers, her hands still balled at her sides, not to moving them. Brittany smiles into the kiss as she seals their lips together and her hand finally angles towards warm heat. When her fingers dip into Santana's arousal and slip through her soaked folds, Santana breaks from the kiss to cry out. She nods her head quickly as her eyes close in pleasure and her hips roll towards Brittany's touch. Brittany teases over her clit, gliding down to her slit and rubbing slow circles around her entrance before stroking back up to the nub that's pulsing at the top.

"Is this what you want Santana?" Brittany whispers into the woman's ear, her fingers beginning to rub slow wide circles on the little bundle of nerves. Santana's body shakes a little and she nods her head.

"_Yes_, hmmm, _God_ Britt."

Brittany grins at the noises that fall from Santana's lips but she continues to tease at a torturous pace, feeling more and more wetness on her fingers every time she slips them back down to tease at Santana's dripping entrance before returning them to brush at her clit. It quickly becomes too much for Santana to handle, as she very vocally verbalizes it.

"Holy _fuck._ Brittany, if you don't put your fingers in me right now..."

"You'll what?" Brittany interrupts, her eyes dancing with mirth. She's very curious as to what Santana would do, even if she's dying with anticipation at the thought of slipping her fingers into that place of magic that rests between Santana's spread legs. Brittany smirks at Santana as she drags the tips of her fingers up her soaked and swollen folds for the sixth torturous time. Santana groans, her mouth gaping open and her eyes rolling around lazy. She pants and rocks her hips to the edge of the sofa, stretching her legs around Brittany's waist and pulling her close until she can reach her face and press her lips to Brittany's earlobe.

"If you don't put your fingers in me right now and fuck me, I promise you won't get the chance to do that or anything else remotely similar to me for the rest of your life." Santana husks in Brittany's ear before licking at the shell and placing a soft wet kiss to the center of it. Brittany's body tenses and her heart flips at Santana's words, the combination of dirtiness and the images her words provoke driving Brittany insane. She gasps against Santana's neck, where her face is currently pressed close.

"And if I do?" She just has to ask. Moist lips return to her ear.

"Do it and find out." Is Santana's vague and short reply, but nothing gets to Brittany like some leave it up to the imagination statements. Smirking against Santana's neck, Brittany runs her fingers once more through Santana's wetness before she presses just the tip of her middle finger into Santana's entrance.

A low moan rumbles from Santana's chest and something tugs low in Brittany's gut. Breathing heavily against Santana's neck, Brittany twists her hand so her palm is now face up and thrusts her finger knuckle deep inside of Santana's tight center. Heat rushes through Brittany's body as warmth and delicious wetness surrounds her finger and Santana moans low again, this time directly in Brittany's ear.

"Uh-uh _fuuuck_." Is spoken from Santana's lips but her brow furrows. She's expecting something else, or she's certainly expecting more than Brittany simply pushing one finger into her and then just fucking holding it there. Not to say that it doesn't feel good, Brittany's fingers are after all, exceptionally long, but the ache in Santana's sex isn't fixing itself.

"Brittany…" She rasps. Her tone is low and warning. Brittany giggles and presses her lips, open mouthed, to the spot just below Santana's ear.

"I'm just getting a feel of things." She teases, emphasizing her words with the slight removal of her middle finger only to push it back in, this time with her index finger following. Santana shudders at the glacial pace, rocking her hips forward and sinking Brittany's fingers into her deeper. She's never been more ready in her life, and this teasing shit is getting really old, really fast.

"Britt, I swear to G-_OH fucking_ christ!" They weren't the original words Santana intended to use, but Brittany kind of took her by surprise when she pulled her fingers back only to drive them back in with a perfectly timed curl, prodding the spot just along the inside of Santana's upper wall. Santana's eyes squeeze shut and her legs grip around Brittany's hips tighter as her insides clench around long slender fingers. Her mouth falls open and she wills Brittany to pick up her pace.

She finds she doesn't even have to ask, because Brittany's fingers reach inside of Santana and tease along all the right spots before slipping back in only to do it all over again at an unbelievably erotic pace. Brittany hums in Santana's ear, her fingers thrusting in and out of Santana, twisting and stretching and brushing every inch she can reach. She licks across the shell of Santana's ear, earning a guttural moan and a sharp pain in her shoulder.

Brittany hisses at the stinging pain until she realizes its Santana biting her skin as her face contorts into a look of absolute pleasure. The sight stimulates Brittany's own arousal and she moans into Santana's ear.

"Fuck, Santana, you feel so unbelievable around my fingers."

Santana squeaks at a particular deep thrust, nodding her head in agreement, wanting so much to reach out and hold onto Brittany.

"You're so _fucking_ tight, _hmmm_."

"Oh _shit_! Oh my...oh my…Britt_any_." Santana's moans get more breathless, the words falling almost incoherently, her hips rocking into the motion of Brittany's fingers to meet her at every thrust. Brittany can see how desperately Santana is holding her fists at her sides, she can feel Santana's warm wetness pulsing around her fingers, clenching and releasing quicker and quicker with each thrust.

"Don't come until I tell you to." Brittany whispers against Santana's cheek, as her left hand comes down to the small of Santana's back and she presses in, forcing Santana further and harder onto her fingers.

"_Oh uh_! Don't stop…_please_…don't…"

Brittany can see the way Santana's stomach quivers as she thrusts, she can feel the way Santana's walls start to tighten more and more. Her palm is coated in Santana's arousal as it drips out of her.

"_Dios mios, _Brittany_. ¡Eres increible! Queiro…_"

Brittany doesn't know where the hell those words came from but their the tipping point for her control, she falls forward, pushing her own body into the back of her hand and rutting her hips with every thrust to give them more power.

"When you come, I want your arms around me." She tells Santana who whimpers as Brittany leans down to press kisses down her neck until she nips at Santana's pulse point.

"I want to feel you come Santana." Brittany breaths into the skin and curls her fingers into Santana as her thumb comes down to press against Santana's clit, and that's the last Santana can take. Her hands shoot to Brittany's shoulders where her nails dig half crescent moons into the pale flesh as her hips jerk forward, her head flies back, her mouth gaps open in a echoed scream of "Brittany!" and her insides clamp down outstandingly tight around Brittany's fingers.

As Santana's body tenses and then shakes with her release, Brittany feels a rush of wetness surge over her fingers and drip down her hand. She watches Santana's face flush, her brow crinkle and then soothe out and her mouth hang open as aftershocks quiver down her thighs and Brittany pulls her fingers just barely an inch back and an inch forward in Santana, drawing out her orgasm and bringing her down slowly.

Santana pants against Brittany's shoulder, her heart pounding in her chest, the pulse between her legs still ticking. The feeling of Brittany's fingers trapped deep inside of her drag another moan from Santana's mouth. Brittany presses a kiss to her temple and lets her fingers slowly slide out from Santana as her walls relax. She's breathing heavily, her own body worked up when Santana's hands frame her face and draw her into a passionate kiss. Santana's tongue eases across Brittany's lips and slips into her mouth, drowning her in pleasure and making her sex throb that much harder. She moans into Santana's mouth and before she knows it, she finds nimble tan fingers pushing at the edges of her jeans until they slide past her ass and fall to the ground.

Santana is quick to rid Brittany of her top as she pushes herself off the edge of the couch, landing firmly on the ground, only to scratch her nails up Brittany's back and grasp the clasp of her bra. It's unhooked and being dragged down Brittany's arms a moment later, and the feeling of strong confident hands cupping Brittany's breasts, elicits another moan from the woman. Santana's palms smooth over Brittany's nipples, and she smiles into the kiss as she feels how quickly they pebble under her touch. She angles her mouth to press up firmer into Brittany and kiss her deeper, sucking Brittany's tongue into her mouth and nipping at it lightly.

Brittany groans into Santana's mouth, her hands pawing at dress-covered hips as she tries to tug the skintight material up and off of Santana's body. Instead of letting Brittany get the dress off of her, Santana pulls Brittany close before spinning her around and pushing her back towards the sofa. There's an animalistic look layered in Santana's deep brown eyes as she stalks towards Brittany and before the woman can even process what's happening, Santana is pushing at her shoulder and Brittany is tumbling over backwards and landing on the cushions of the sofa below her.

"Ooph!" Brittany seems to be getting pushed into a lot of things tonight.

That's the farthest thing from a complaint though, especially when Santana appears on the other side of the couch and grins down at Brittany.

"Sorry if I pushed you too hard…only," Santana starts to say and Brittany's eyes turn a shade darker as she watches the woman grip at the hem of her skin tight dress and tug it up and over her head, exposing a tan, toned, and incredibly sexy body for Brittany to stare at. Santana is wearing a black strapless bra to match her discarded black lacy thong. Brittany licks her lips at the sight, her arousal pooling even more between her legs, she has to shift around on the cushions as she feels her panties become a sticky mess.

"I'm not sorry," Santana then rasps as she takes a step towards the sofa and then swings one of her legs over Brittany's hips and settles down into a straddling position on top of Brittany's stomach. Brittany moans as she feels the remnants of Santana's arousal leave a wet trail on her skin. Her hips buck up involuntarily and her hands automatically find purchase on Santana's hips as tan hands come down and rest gently on her ribs.

Santana bites her lip as she racks her eyes over Brittany's body. The way her chest is heaving up and down, her round perky creamy breasts are bouncing a little as she slides her hands up to cup those beautiful mounds, stroking her thumbs over the curve of them before shifting her hands fully over them and tugging lightly at Brittany's pert pink nipples. Santana bends down and swallows the moan that tumbles from Brittany's mouth as her hands work the woman's breasts. Massaging and kneading, pulling and tweaking at the nipples until they peak as Brittany's hips rock subtly up into Santana.

Their mouths break for air and Santana is quick to fuse her lips to Brittany's neck, her own hips pressing down into Brittany's stomach every so often to quell that pressure that's building in her own stomach again, earning a moan from Brittany every time. Santana kisses and licks down the valley of Brittany's breasts as the woman's hands come up to grasp at Santana's bra, unclipping and tugging at the last remaining article on her body. Santana sits up a moment to let Brittany fling the garment off to her right before her eyes land on the perfect sized mounds of delicious looking tan flesh in front of her.

Brittany reaches out to cup Santana's breasts, toying with the dark nipples as Santana's head falls back in a breathless moan and her hips rock down again.

"God Santana, you're so incredibly stunning." Brittany's voice is laced with an intensity that Santana's never heard. She cups her own hands over Brittany's as they work on her breasts and opens her eyes to stare down into honest blue. They both smile at each other at the same time before Santana suddenly can't wait any longer. She wraps Brittany's hands around her waist and shifts them so they palm her ass as she slides her wet center up and down Brittany's stomach, feeling the muscles tense and flex under her. She leans down and pecks at Brittany's lips.

"I want to taste you," She whispers against them before licking at Brittany's lips and earning a moan in return. Brittany nods fiercely, very much okay with that happening and Santana is on a path back down her body. Kissing across her breasts before swirling her tongue around one of the erect buds and sucking it in her mouth before releasing it with a wet pop and licking her way over to the other one to do the same, her fingers tracing up and down the dips of Brittany's ribs. She scoots back further and lays the lower half of her body on the rest of the sofa, parting Brittany's legs and situating herself between them.

As Santana kisses over the lines and definition of Brittany's abs, she caresses her thigh a little before hooking her arm under it and lifting it up to perch on the backside of the sofa, spreading Brittany wider. Brittany's left hand drops to her own breast as she moans at the feeling of Santana's tongue swirling around her navel and her right hand tangles through Santana's hair, her nails scratching at her scalp, and encouraging her lower. Santana smirks against Brittany's skin, pressing a kiss to her hipbone before sliding lower and kissing down the apex of the thigh not propped up on the sofa. Santana presses wet kisses down the crease, and Brittany squirms at the feeling of her hot breath so close to her center.

Santana dips her left hand under Brittany's thigh, curling it up to rest on her hip and she uses the other one to stretch Brittany's other leg up and over her shoulder, lowering her face to press a wet kiss directly on Brittany's drenched sex. Brittany bucks at the feeling of Santana's mouth on her and groans in frustration when she feels her pull away all too soon only to whimper at the feeling of Santana biting gently at the inside of her thigh. She blinks her eyes and looks down her chest to see burning almost black eyes staring back at her. Santana smirks between Brittany's legs.

"Santana, are we really going to play this game ag_-ohhh ugh_!" Brittany's words die on her lips as she feels Santana's mouth cover her and her velvet tongue part her folds with a broad flat stroke. Brittany's hips cant upwards and Santana is quick to press her hand down against her, keeping Brittany's hips pressed to the cushions as she moves her face up and draws as much of Brittany into her mouth as she can, her tongue poking out to flick at the bundle of nerves before circling around it and sucking again.

"_Ugh fuck_, you're so good at that." Brittany pants from above Santana, her stomach flipping at the feeling of Santana's skilled tongue working all over her. Her hand grips at Santana's hair, tugging her further trying to get her desperation across and she feels the outcome of Santana chuckling vibrate against her, causing another moan to drop from her lips.

"_Fucking shit_…Santana. Put it in." Brittany begs as she feels Santana's tongue circle her entrance before licking back up to her clit. Her hips are rolling with the motions, begging for that release. The tension in her abdomen tugging more and more. Santana chuckles again and gives Brittany's folds another broad stroke before pressing a wet kiss to her sex and drawing her face back a little.

"Look at me Brittany." Santana requests and Brittany's eyes are quick to snap down to brown, witnessing a triumphant smirk before Santana dips her head down and pushes her tongue into Brittany's tight hole, immediately feeling the walls clench around the intrusion. If Brittany thought the feeling of Santana eating her out was amazing, there are no words to describe what it's like to watch her do it. Santana continues to keep her eyes locked with Brittany as her tongue slides in and out of her, circling every third thrust or so and feeling the slickness of Brittany coat her lips and chin.

Brittany's legs start to flutter next to Santana's head and Santana draws her hands back down to them to keep them spread, her tongue pressing in as deep into Brittany as possible and twirling around, drawing a cry from the girl under her tongue.

"_Oh…ohhhh_ Santana!" Brittany releases the most delicious moan yet as Santana's tongue curls inside her core, her hips rolling into the woman's mouth and pulling it in until Santana can't move as Brittany's walls clench around her and the first wave of her orgasm washes over her. Brittany's hips continue to roll into Santana's tongue as she continues to move it inside of her as best she can against the tightness.

When Brittany's body slumps back to the cushions and her walls loosen around Santana's tongue, the other woman draws back before licking at the dampness still coating Brittany until she presses kisses slowly up Brittany's body and she's hovering over the other woman, pressing her lips in wet kisses along Brittany's jaw. Heavy arms wrap around Santana and hold her close as Brittany's pants fills the air. When she blinks her eyes open, Santana is still pressing soft kisses to her face, smiling the whole time. Brittany stops her by cupping her cheeks and drawing her down to press their lips together, moaning at the taste of herself she finds in Santana's mouth.

Their tongues slide against each other in Brittany's mouth as Santana settles down between her legs, moaning at the feeling of dampness that now coats her own stomach. As they pull away for air, Brittany lets out a content sigh, her eyes fluttering in absolute bliss. She lazily looks at Santana who is smirking just as silly and rolls her eyes.

"Don't be so smug, babe, I'm not done with you yet." Brittany says and Santana's heart skips a beat at that thought. She grins and scratches her nails down Brittany's forearms, leaning in to brush her lips against her ear.

"Who says I'm done with you?" She asks and Brittany chuckles.

Before they know it a tickle match starts and they find themselves rolling off the couch and falling in a heap next to it on the floor. Laughing hysterically, Brittany rolls Santana over onto her back and pins her arms at the side of her head, pressing her hips down into the other woman's and earning an airy moan.

"How about we just agree to disagree at the moment and stop talking?"

Santana nods complacently.

"Whatever you say Brittany."

And with that, Brittany leans down intent on getting back to business. After all, she's not one who likes to slow down.

################################################## ###########################

**So that's the end of this part! It was getting a little long, and taking FOREVER, that I split it into two. The next part will be up by Monday. I can't thank all you lovely lovely beautiful individuals for wishing me a great vacation and giving my little story a chance, you all (every single one of you!) are amazing. I'm talking to you too you silent lurkers, I know you're out there and I appreciate you as well :) I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Thanks y'all!**

**Spanish Just in Case:**

**Dios Mios Brittany: My God Brittany  
Eres Increible: You are incredible  
Quiero: I want**


	15. Seatbelts for Safety

**Warnings: Same as previous chapter...it's still a little hot in here :0**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Seatbelts for Safety**

When the need for air becomes important, Brittany pulls back a little from Santana's mouth and rolls off to lie beside the naked woman, panting into the coolness of her condo.

Her hand comes down to rest against her sweaty forehead. She can't believe how fucking amazing she feels right now. And well, fucking exhausted.

Brittany wouldn't trade it for the world. It sort of feels like her and Santana were meant to fit together, because they do, very well. Which is why it doesn't really surprise her when a second later, Santana is rolling over on top of Brittany and grinning down at her silly.

Brittany would have thought that round three when they fell off the couch would have put them both away, or round four that happened when Santana changed positions and rocked Brittany into another orgasm with Brittany riding her fingers from on top of her, but that just ended with them where they're at now; sweating and panting, and completely satisfied but also not minding if anything else were to happen.

Brittany glances up to look into hooded brown eyes and smiles. A thought pops into her mind as she's looking into those mesmerizing eyes and Brittany finds herself chuckling a little.

Despite what just transpired with Santana (and let her say how incredibly _hot _that really was) Brittany still finds it all to be kind of fascinating. She knows that Santana definitely has interest in her, at least as far as sexual attraction is concerned, but she finds it kind of funny that she hasn't considered anything beyond that until just now; after an intense session of fucking each other senseless. Which, in Brittany's mind, is kind of funny.

Santana furrows her brows at her and tilts her head in question.

Brittany shakes her head, but supplies"It's kind of funny you know."

"What's funny?"

Brittany tilts up and pecks Santana's lips, savoring the taste she finds there and humming in content before she shrugs as best she can in her position and returns her attention to curious brown eyes.

"I always just thought it was a game to you, the teasing and the flirting, while it was hot I just figured with Puck and all, it was just a game."

This gets Santana's attention, but she still has no idea what Brittany's talking about so she regards her in absolute confusion.

"Puck? What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

"Well he's been walking around the shop lately saying how when this is all over he's finally going to be able to settle down with you and everything." It's an honest to God situation that Brittany has been curious about for a while now. She knows Puck's side of things, or rather where his interests lie, especially considering she sees the way he pines after Santana, but she's completely stumped on Santana's side of things.

Or, on one hand at least, it's entirely confusing.

On the other hand, Brittany's quiet sure that it's a one sided infatuation from Puck, if the way that Santana's eyes narrow at Brittany's words is any indication.

"Puck's been saying that?"

A confirming nod from Brittany causes Santana's whole attitude to change from sexy turned on to furiously pissed off. But she's not about to let Puck and his misguided ways stop what's right in front of her from happening. She grumbles a little before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Look Brittany, Puck is not my papi no matter how much he insists he is and how much he wants up on this. No me gusta."

Brittany smiles at Santana's definitive tone, but she's curious still.

"Well if you're not his, whose are you?"

"I belong to no one. I am a fierce, phenomenal, independent female and I don't need no man telling me what I can and can't have." Santana shifts around a little above Brittany and upon seeing the look dancing in blue eyes she adds, "I don't need no woman telling me that either."

Brittany smiles and holds her hands up defensively.

"I'd never dare." She says before dropping those hands to Santana's back and rubbing them up and down the smooth soft skin she finds there, pulling the woman in closer as she shifts her legs so Santana's hips drop between her own. She glances into brown eyes and watches as the delicate skin of Santana's neck shifts as she noticeably swallows a lump in her throat.

"You really are beautiful Santana, do you know that?" Brittany asks while leaning up and breathing across Santana's cheek, placing a soft kiss to the warm skin that rests there. Santana's breath hitches at the kiss and her eyes flutter shut before she gasps slightly when she feels Brittany's nose nudge her cheek.

"And you're dangerous." Santana whispers, it sounds strained and choked, as if she never really intended to say it in the first place, especially with Brittany looking up at her with such open acceptance. But she knows the kind of girl Brittany is, always chasing the hottest piece but never really knowing whether or not she'll settle down.

As much as Santana enjoys having sex with Brittany, she's not about to let that spiral out of control, not with the situation her life is in right now.

So it's a little surprising when Brittany's next's words are reassuring to Santana, at least for the moment.

"Only if I don't have anything worth living for." Brittany whispers and starts placing soft kisses down the ledge of Santana's jaw. She gasps again when Brittany's lips press firmly into the side of her mouth where her dimples would normally appear before they vanish only to reappear at the shell of her ear where Brittany whispers again.

"And you're more than worth living for." She husks into Santana's ear. Santana's eyes dance all over Brittany's face, the feelings of every touch, every kiss, every single thing that's happened in the last few hours rushing back to the forefront of her mind as it's displayed equally across Brittany's own features. She shivers in Brittany's embrace, never having felt this desired and needed before, and knowing everything would be perfect if there wasn't the tiny nagging thought at the back of Santana's mind.

"I don't want this if I can't fully have you." Santana tells Brittany firmly and waits, as the other woman securely wraps her arms around her waist and pulls her impossibly close.

"I know. But you should know that I'd planned on making you mine the second I laid eyes on you." Brittany says. "Even if we rushed through a couple things, I want you Santana and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you."

"Then I'm yours." Santana tells her, leaning forward to express that by pressing her lips to Brittany's.

The kiss is slow and sensual and Brittany gets lost in the sensation of Santana's lips until she gasps into the woman's mouth at the feel of a sure hand gliding down the plain of her toned stomach. Her hips jerk a little when Santana's fingers meet Brittany's wet heat once again and Brittany groans a little at the fact she can feel how wet she is, still, by the way Santana's fingers slide easy up and down her folds. She presses firmer into the kiss, her hands tangling in Santana's wavy locks and holding her face close.

Santana's fingers slip up and down Brittany's arousal, coating her fingers again before the tips of her first two fingers start rubbing slow circles on Brittany's clit. Brittany moans at the touch, already feeling her body getting worked back up. There's something about how sexy Santana is and how amazingly she touches her. It makes Brittany's hips cant up into Santana's and her legs desperately lock around the other woman's thighs, pushing the hand between their bodies even closer to where Brittany wants it.

At that, Santana doesn't waste another second in her quest to work Brittany back up.

Her lips ghost down the skin of Brittany's neck, nipping and licking and sucking in all the right places and drawing harmonious sounds from the other woman's mouth as her fingers slip down to circle around Brittany's soaked entrance.

"_Hmmm_…please." Brittany gasps, her arms tightening their hold around Santana's shoulders as her hips roll upwards in search of that pressure her body is dying for. Santana smiles against Brittany's neck before she straightens her fingers and enters Brittany in one smooth motion. She immediately groans at the feeling of Brittany's warmth pulsing around her digits as they sink knuckle deep.

Brittany sighs in content at the feeling of Santana so deep inside of her again. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of that feeling, nor the weight of the woman as she rests above her. Santana presses another wet open mouthed kiss to that spot on Brittany's neck as her fingers pull out of Brittany only to slide right back in, angling towards the squishy spot at the top of her walls.

"Oh-_ugh San_tana!"

The vibrations against Santana's lips from the sound of Brittany moaning drive her to thrust faster.

"You feel amazing." Santana murmurs into Brittany's ear as she dips inside of her again.

It's enough to break Brittany into action and her hand starts to glide across the small of Santana's back, over her hip and with the effort of Brittany forcing her hips further into the ground, she slides her hand between their bodies and into Santana's own wet heat causing the other woman to momentarily falter in her movements and Brittany to smugly smirk against her cheek where her lips are pressed. Until Santana's hips rut down in search of Brittany's exploring fingers and force her own fingers deeper into Brittany.

"Ugh mother, _shit_, Brittany." Santana moans as her face drops to Brittany's shoulder and the woman's fingers slip through her folds. Brittany's smug for about one second until her fingers dip briefly into Santana and she releases her own moan at how unbelievably hot and warm the woman is. Santana shifts a little more until Brittany's fingers are pushed into her as she cants her hips down on them.

With each of their fingers in the other, and their bodies squished tightly together, Santana rocks down onto Brittany's fingers as she continues to pump her own in and out of Brittany, pulling them almost all the way out before pushing them all the way in. Brittany's own movements between Santana's legs falter briefly when Santana's fingers curl upward and poke at a spongy spot deep inside of her and her walls clench and unclench around the woman's fingers.

"Ugh_ fuck_! More…" She moans and Santana slips in another finger as she continues to thrust them in and out of Brittany. Her thumb comes down to circle Brittany's clit when she feels the woman's insides tighten more and more against her fingers and Brittany lets out a wild and uncontrolled cry at the feeling, her own fingers slipping out of Santana momentarily.

"Right-_oh ugh_-there…fuck…_fucking_…San-_ugh_!" Brittany cries as Santana's deep thrust sends her over and she shakes with an intense orgasm. Santana slows her movements inside of Brittany as her thumb continues to circle her clit in slow drawn out circles, drawing every little bit out of Brittany as she can.

When Brittany's body relaxes below her, and her walls unclamp from around her fingers, Santana lets them slip out slowly feeling the extra wetness that now coats Brittany's sex. Santana shifts her hand around until she gets a grip on Brittany's right hand, still resting between their bodies, and adjusts pale fingers to slip them back into her aching sex.

Brittany shudders in arousal at the feeling of sticky wetness that coats the fingers Santana uses to grip her own. And then she's moaning at the feeling of filling Santana up again, dipping deep and slow into her tightness and being instantly surrounded by that velvety warmth. Still recovering from her own body shaking orgasm, Brittany only has the presence to crook her fingers into Santana as the woman above her shifts and ruts her hips up and down on them, riding them at her own pace and pleasure.

"_Ugh yes_ fuck." Santana moans as her hips roll up and down on Brittany's fingers. Then she feels the woman gather a little more control as Brittany's other hand shifts to the small of her back and presses down firmly, driving Santana's hips down harder as her fingers begin pumping in and out of Santana, matching her thrusts.

"So close…don't…" The words die off as Santana's mouth drops open in pleasure and her eyes squeeze shut.

Brittany leans up with as much strength as she can muster, her whole body still tingling with the remnants of her own orgasm but every fiber of her being wanting to get Santana off. She presses wet sloppy kisses to Santana's jaw as she twists her fingers deeper and raises her thumb to press against Santana's clit.

"That's it baby, come for me."

Brittany's words are enough for Santana and her whole body tenses.

"B-Brittany!" She moans as she tightens around Brittany's fingers and then releases a loud cry a moment later. Brittany doesn't let up on her pace until Santana is squirming above her and whimpering in pleasure. As Santana slumps in a heap on top of her, Brittany slowly draws her fingers out from between trembling thighs and rubs her other hand up and down the small of Santana's back.

There's a few moments of silence, or a few moments of nothing else but heavy breathing between the two, before Santana lifts her cheek up off of it's resting place against Brittany's chest and looks down into blue eyes with a satisfied smile.

"Jesus, I don't even know what to fucking say about that." Santana admits, her hair a sexy mess, haloing her face and falling all around them. Brittany smiles and tilts up to press a lingering kiss to Santana's lips.

"Maybe that you'd like to do it again sometime?"

Santana chuckles but tilts her head down to rub their noses together.

"Definitely."

Brittany's smile is infectious, and soon they find themselves kissing again, hot tongues stroking hot tongues and dipping into warm mouths until the kissing turns into slow pecks as they try to gather any energy they might have left. Santana releases another sigh and her head comes down to rest on Brittany's chest again. She doesn't fail to feel how rapidly the woman's heart is still fluttering against her ribcage. Santana smiles and her fingers trace a pattern around the curve of Brittany's breast, earning a sharp inhale from the other woman.

"You keep doing that and we might not get any sleep." Brittany jokes, her own hands still smoothing up and down Santana's back. Santana nods into Brittany's chest but doesn't let up on the tracing.

After a few seconds, she giggles a little. Brittany glances down at her in question the best she can from her position. Santana looks up to meet her eyes, an easy smile still on her face.

"I just thought, we kind of left your bike out in the middle of the desert." She says nonchalantly as if it's really not a big deal.

Brittany's face shades into a look of repression for just a moment before she finds herself smiling and shrugging, her hand stroking back a lock of Santana's hair behind her ear.

"I kind of had other things on my mind," She admits leaning up to press another kiss to Santana's lips, "Besides, it was Hunter's so I hope it gets stolen." She then says with an amused grin covering her face and a laugh falling from her lips. Santana chuckles with her before she stops for a moment to really admire the beauty of Brittany.

And not just her facial features and incredible body, Santana's also impressed with the immense sense of inner strength Brittany seems to hold. She's still a mystery and despite being open about sexy things, she's still very guarded to Santana, but the woman can't help but admire how remarkable Brittany really is.

She leans down and slides her lips against Brittany's, kissing her deeply and ensuring her that everything's going to be okay, even if she's not entirely sure of that herself.

Brittany kisses her back, enjoying the moment and taking the time not to think about her douche of a brother. Not when she's got someone as astonishingly miraculous as Santana in her arms. She rubs her thumbs in circles against the dimples that rest on Santana's back for a few minutes before she shifts a little in her position, suddenly realizing how stiff her whole body feels from having been lying on the ground for so long.

The thought brings another chuckle from her lips and Santana is quickly curious.

"I was just thinking," Brittany starts to say glancing all around her and Santana with a knowing look, "We missed the bed by like two feet." She giggles and Santana immediately starts laughing with her.

"But that's okay," Brittany then says before rolling back over and on top of Santana, pinning her hands to the ground above her head, "I was planning on getting there eventually."

################

Brittany and Santana's time in the actual bed, unfortunately, doesn't last as long and as blissfully as they had hoped it might have.

As Brittany rests with her back against the headboard, her body still naked and stretched out before her, though under the thin covers of light sheets, she has her arm wrapped around Santana who is also still equally naked and pressed into her side. They are in a state of 'don't give a shit about the rest of the world' and kissing as if it's the only survival sustainment they need when Brittany's door suddenly bursts open without even a knock or care from the intruding person for what might be going on or occurring in the room they just stumbled into.

Santana lips freeze against Brittany's as pale eyelids flicker open and give way to blue eyes. Brittany frowns as she sees her intruder, reluctantly pulling away from Santana. Quinn takes a moment to stare jaw dropped at the figures in Brittany's bed before she turns around and walks back outside the door. A moment later, Brittany hears a knock.

She glances at Santana who rolls her eyes but shrugs and they both do everything they can to at least minutely cover themselves up with the sheets before inviting anyone in.

When Brittany's satisfied with her appearance, but not at all happy about the interruption she clears her throat, "Come in Quinn."

It takes a moment for Quinn to hesitantly poke her head back in the room and when she does, she's still shielding her eyes from any sight she might witness. Brittany rolls her eyes.

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" She asks her friend and watches as Quinn hesitantly peeks one eye open before deeming the coast is clear and lowering her hand only to cross her arms defensively over her chest and scowl in Brittany and Santana's direction.

"Needless to say, I was not quite expecting that."

"You don't say!" Brittany exclaims in mock surprise. Santana giggles slightly in the bed next to her. Quinn clears her throat.

"God knows I wouldn't interrupt you Brittany unless it was for something important." She informs her as her hazel eyes narrow in such a way that Brittany's not sure if Quinn's scheming to do something to them or thinking about joining in. She briefly considers that second part before shaking her head of it. No way is she sharing Santana.

Not now, not ever. Not with the way this woman drives her absolutely and perfectly crazy in all the right ways.

"Okay you have our attention Fabray. What did you come to tell me?"

Quinn regards Brittany for a moment with that same look before her eyes flicker to Santana. "Actually, it's about Santana so I guess it's a good thing she's here too."

Brittany rolls her eyes and flourishes her hand in a way that says 'get the fuck on with it'.

"Rory got feed off the bugs that Mike and Santana planted concerning Jesse. There's also some kind of undeclared Intel that was sent over from Jake," Quinn finally begins to explain, "And of course, Hunter wants everyone to get together to discuss it and figure out where we go from there."

Brittany tenses at the mention of her asshole brother, Santana is quick to soothingly run her fingers up and down Brittany's forearm to cool down any kind of anger that had been flaring up.

"Fine. Give us a few minutes to get dressed and everything. We'll meet in the conference room."

Quinn nods at Brittany in confirmation and then turns to walk back out the door, but is quickly stopped by Brittany calling out to her from the bed.

"Oh and Quinn," She waits until her friend turns to face her and then sweetly adds, "Can we have some juice!"

Quinn doesn't even bother replying. Instead she strides from the room and slams the door at the giggles that follow her departure.

Santana turns to find Brittany staring at her in wonder and her heart skips a beat.

"Can I kiss you again?" Brittany asks her tone laced with the most adorable uncertainty that Santana almost melts on the spot.

"I would be terribly offended if you did not." Santana replies to the woman in faux formality but doesn't get to elaborate much on the joke before Brittany is cupping her cheek again and drawing her mouth into a hot, heavy kiss.

Bt the time that they break away, Santana is almost delirious with pleasure. She smiles back at Brittany and leans in to peck her lips, "God, remind me to get a ventilator when I'm kissing you." She jokes and Brittany rolls her eyes but leans in and nips at her shoulder as her hands run over Santana's stomach.

"It's my ever waking desire to always keep you in a state of bliss." She murmurs against Santana's skin and receives a shiver in return.

Santana faux fans herself, "Well so far you've been successful and I don't think you'll have anything to worry about Casanova. Now let's hop out of bed and get going before someone else walks in on us, I don't want anyone else seeing you naked. You're_ all_ mine now."

Brittany laughs happily at that, delighted and euphoric at the rush that's gone to her head; the damn rush that's gone through her whole body. She presses one more lingering kiss to the smooth firm skin of Santana's stomach before she rolls out of bed, and leaves the other woman gapping as Brittany confidently strides over to her dresser still completely naked.

As she retrieves a set of undergarments, she glances over her shoulder to see a lustful look blazing from Santana's eyes; eyes that are very much focused on the entirety of Brittany's backside.

With a sly grin Brittany winks in Santana's direction, "Careful gorgeous, stare too long and your face might just get stuck like that."

And with a deliberate effort to tease the woman just a little bit more, Brittany bends at the waist to retrieve a pair of jeans off her floor before skipping off into her bathroom.

##################

Brittany and Santana join the rest of their crews in the conference room a half an hour later. Neither one of them can confirm nor deny what might have caused them to take so long.

When Brittany spots her brother, and the two black eyes and practically splinted to his face nose, she can't help but feel a little more gratitude for the woman who steps up to stand by her side. She also can't help the smug smirk that covers her face when Hunter spots Santana and instantly turns fearful but at the same time pissed. He sneers at her and Brittany rolls her eyes.

"Nice face Hunter, you deserved it you asshole."

There's no room for argument, and even Hunter's not dumb enough to try. So, instead of making things extremely awkward, Quinn nudges Rory to take a step forward in front of the group as she raises a little electronic looking fob towards the projection screen that's lowered towards the front of the room. There's a flicker of light from the projection machine before a blurry image appears before everyone.

Rory begins speaking as the image comes into focus, "Um, because of the Intel brought back from Santana, Mike and Puck the other night, and the continued Intel we are receiving from our man on the inside Jake, we now know that Jesse St. James is not only planning one of the biggest and highest paying underground races this side of the States has seen, he's also got another highly secretive but suspected enormous payout job he's planning on the side."

Brittany glances to her friends and fellow crew people around the room. It's very odd to her that such an illegal group of car thieves and racers are standing around a room discussing an 'operation' like some part of elite police force. She glances towards Santana and notices the woman is staring at her with an amused look and a raised eyebrow. Brittany simply smirks back and shrugs.

"Rory, besides the obvious stuff, do we have any further detailed information on Jesse or the way he works?" Brittany interrupts her electronics guy, noticing Rory releasing a giant sigh of relief at the interruption. She pauses for a second with a quirked eyebrow before Quinn is quick to interject with her thoughts, not much to Brittany's surprise at all.

"We haven't been able to physically speak with Jake, and his options for getting in touch with us are limited. But he has informed us that Jesse is very interested in keeping Santana close to his side, whether as arm candy or for something else, we kn-"

"Jesse can go fuck himself if he thinks he's putting his hands on Santana for any damn reason." Brittany suddenly interposes her very fierce opinion, much too the shock of everyone else, including Santana whom stands at Brittany's side looking at her wide eyed and in wonder.

A knowing smirk, however, covers Quinn's features, "I think Brittany," she starts to say, raising her eyebrow just enough for affect and to fully gather her friend's attention, "That Jesse simply wants Santana for her racing skills."

Brittany's nostrils flare a little as she tries to quell the rage that has bubbled to the surface of her skin at the mere thought of Jesse trying anything with Santana.

Not on her fucking life is that going to happen.

She's about to rage a little more when the sensitive feeling of a soft fingertips trailing over the inside of her wrist that hangs closest to Santana's side rapidly calms Brittany down. She glances to her side and watches just the faintest of responses flicker in Santana's eyes before the woman is taking a step forward, the exact moment her fingers trail down Brittany's palm and slide through the gaps in her own hand to subtly interlock their hands.

"I think Quinn has a point," Santana begins to say, clearly addressing the rest of the room, "The hour I spent with Jesse's underground crew is enough warning to all of us that the guy has some serious things going on and he's not afraid to execute any power or force needed to make what he wants to happen a possibility."

There are nods and murmurs from the room, and Brittany feels like laying down her side of things when she feels Santana squeeze her fingers in reassurance.

"Since Jesse wants me on his side, I'll infiltrate his crew for long enough to get enough Intel and dirt on him for us to take him down. Hopefully by the time he plans on completing his Über race."

Even though the rest of the crew is quick to agree to Santana's terms, Brittany can't help but feel a little cheated at not even getting to share her opinion on Santana going in on this whole thing. Not to say Brittany doesn't think Santana can't handle it, but more or less she's worried about what might happen to Santana if she gets in too deep in Jesse's gang. Every sign they've seen about the guy (see: Brittany's time in his presence the other night) points to him being a very dangerous and cutthroat guy.

Brittany doesn't like the thought of Santana being anywhere in the middle of that.

As the rest of the team disperses, with each of their general acknowledgements of the 'plan', Brittany tugs on Santana's hand to hold her back. When the other woman is facing her with a curious look on her face, Brittany takes a deep breath and tries to get the words right in her head before she speaks.

"I don't like that you're going in there alone."

Santana's forehead crinkles in confusion before it smoothes out in understanding. She takes a step towards Brittany with a knowing smile on her face. Reaching up she cups Brittany's cheek in her hand and strokes her thumb across the skin.

"Are you trying to say you care about me and you're worried I'll get hurt?" Santana inquires, even though she's already fairly certain about the answer. Brittany scoffs and averts her eyes down and to the right, signaling she definitely feels a lot more about the whole thing than she's letting on.

"Britt…" Santana murmurs, stepping forward. She's thoroughly confused as to why Brittany is suddenly acting so distant and withdrawn from her, while at the same time becoming increasingly nervous about why she would be doing that. As hot as their back and forth banter has been, Santana also thought that they'd at least reached some kind of common ground concerning the way they actually feel about each other.

Or at least, Santana had thought they did.

Brittany shakes her head and takes a step back from Santana's advance towards her, coughing a little.

"Just remember it's going to be dangerous there," She starts to say, but won't meet Santana's eyes. One of her hands comes up to rub at the back of her neck, blue eyes still working exceptionally hard at avoiding brown, "You should go and catch up with Jesse before he starts really wondering where you are." She tells Santana, who tries very hard not to let Brittany's suddenly closed up attitude get to her.

She clears her own throat and steps back from her advance, putting a little space between them and slowly releasing her hand from Brittany's.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you around?"

Brittany shrugs her shoulders almost inconspicuously. Santana's brow furrows as she regards Brittany's stiffer than normal posture. Until finally she just shrugs and with a heavy sigh, turns away from the woman. The pain that clenches in her chest does not go unnoticed by Santana.

She only gets about two steps away before Brittany is calling out behind her.

"Santana! Wait!"

Santana feels Brittany's long and slender fingers wrap delicately around her wrist and tug just enough to encourage the momentum for Santana to turn back around and face her. Without even having to say anything, Santana can see the inner struggle that flashes across Brittany's eyes. The one that says she's earnestly trying to say something but she's not sure how to go about it. Santana smiles at Brittany's efforts, and before the other woman has the chance to process any of her thoughts into words, Brittany is being pulled into an ardent lip lock and quickly melting into Santana's body.

When she has the consciousness to stop being such a pile of jumbled mush, Brittany stands up straight and wraps her arms around Santana's waist, promptly pulling their bodies closer until their hips are perfectly aligned and their breasts brush together. Santana's mouth parts on a moan at the feeling and Brittany swallows it with her tongue as she slips into Santana's mouth.

Brittany eases Santana into a slow kiss as her tongue massages Santana's and their lips smack and slide together. When the need for air becomes apparent, Brittany releases Santana's mouth and disconnects their lips. She pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against Santana's, as they both pant heavily between each other.

Licking her lips, Brittany's eyes flicker open to be met with that same beautiful brown she can no longer deny she's not falling harder and faster for every time she looks into them.

She swallows, and in a whisper against Santana's lips, tells her "Just, you know, be careful."

A smile spreads across those lips so kissable it should be illegal as Santana stretches them out to press just barely into the corner of Brittany's mouth.

"You too Britt."

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**Yay for plot advancement! You will soon enough be seeing a lot more action. Thanks again to everyone who took the time to leave a review on that last chapter! I'm glad you all liked it (and a side note: 16 reviews until we reach 200? How AWESOME are you all! (freaking, that's how)). Look forward to another update on Friday, I'll keep you all posted on my tumblr if things change. Thanks y'all!**


	16. Reading the Warning Signs

**If I could have a brief moment of your time: Let me just start by saying that the response to the last chapter blew me away! I never expected people to react so well to this story, but I am truly thankful that you have and I hope you continue to!**

**To the guests who I cannot privately respond to: **Guest1**: Thanks! I will purposefully not say yes or no to whether they are dating. You shall find out. **Guest2**: YES! To a 'juicy' chapter, glad you liked it. **Anon: **I appreciate that! Hope to hear from you again.** Guest3: **Thank you, I'll try to keep them that way! *cyber hug back* **

**Thanks for reading (if you did, if not….well no biggie)**

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**Chapter 16: Reading the Warning Signs**

When Brittany was a little girl, and her father was just getting her into the family business, there was one thing that he would always remind his daughter to do. One thing on top of the other two things that he made sure she knew.

It was this: Don't ever let her walls down for anyone. Because the second she did, he told Brittany, she'd miss those warning signs, and then someone would be bound to drive off with her heart. And not in the good way, Garrick Pierce would say.

Brittany wasn't aware enough to understand that her dad was just bitter about Brittany's mother leaving, a fact that Brittany herself wouldn't understand until she was 14 and able to actually connect with everything the woman had done in her life. But she did realize that her dad probably had a good point.

If she put walls up she could avoid all the usual and harsh anguish a person would normally go through when letting someone in. Brittany worked hard at putting those walls up, and making sure that no one matters more to her than the next boost and the fastest race.

Brittany's always been really good at keeping those walls up.

**################**

"I have visual on the cars. Over." Brittany whispers into her walkie before letting the hand that holds it fall to her side.

She scans the general perimeter of the area she's currently occupying. Not much to look at; she's outside the main fence line of a Honda car dealer, and honestly it's more like a glorified used car lot.

There's a building complete with a large glass faced showroom displaying the newest Honda models behind its secure walls and bulletproof glass. There is a chain link fence that surrounds the perimeter with barbwire at the top, a shop like access area of to the side of the main building, and a giant asphalt lot with a bunch of different style Honda's, and a few mix and match cars. Off to the very side is a group of car hauling semi trucks that currently lack any sort of product on them with which they could hall.

"Pierce, what's your 20?"

Brittany scrunches her face up in a look of confusion at the voice that filters through her walkie. It's Mike's, she recognizes, but she's wondering why he's asking such a silly question.

"Mike we had this discussion a few months ago," Brittany says into her walkie before rolling her eyes at her friend's memory, "You know when I turned 23? And don't forget to say over, over!"

There's a considerable pause.

"Brittany, I'm talking about your location," Mike's voice sounds irritated for only a moment before it shifts to compliant as he states, "Over."

Brittany smirks at the fact that she can make people nervous even over a lil' bitty walkie-talkie.

"I'm at the same damn place that we all agreed we would be. Over."

After another short pause, Mike replies, "Got it boss. Be right there. Over and out."

Brittany is still smugly congratulating herself on the fact that she can instill fear in grown ass men when hands are suddenly covering her eyes.

"Guess who?"

"What the fuck!"

Brittany doesn't guess before she's grabbing the person's hands and preparing to throw them over her shoulder and onto the ground. That is, before she notices that the person is Santana.

"Jesus Brittany, paranoid much?" Santana questions as Brittany pauses mid shoulder toss, her eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"Santana! Shit, you can't do that!"

"Yeah, I got that one now seeing how you were about to go all ninja on me."

Brittany shakes her head and releases a breath she was holding.

"I'm sorry, I'm programmed to react first and ask questions later." She supplies apologetically once she's got her heart tucked back safely into her chest and her pulse isn't through the fucking ceiling.

Santana smiles and takes a step closer, watching as Brittany takes the time to process the outfit she's in. Santana smiles at Brittany's obvious appreciation and bops Brittany on the nose.

"You know it's kinda sexy, you being all martial artist and everything."

Brittany laughs and reaches her hands out to grip at Santana's hips.

"You're kind of all sexy, especially in this little cat burglar outfit." She murmurs with a smirk, tugging on Santana's hips to draw their bodies together.

There's not much more preamble before Brittany is ducking in to kiss those lips she's grown very fond of lately. Santana meets her kiss eagerly, her hands stretching out to grip at the base of Brittany's skull, nails raking over her scalp and drawing a moan from Brittany's mouth. Santana smiles into the kiss and nips at Brittany's bottom lip.

They pull back with a wet smack several moments later, both heavily panting the air between their now swollen lips.

"Fuck you're good with that tongue." Brittany husks against Santana's lips.

"Tell me about it. You're not so bad yourself." She returns and Brittany chuckles and pecks plump lips again.

"Yeah, well that's just the warm up. I'll give you the main show later." She teases and Santana chuckles in return.

"Can't wait."

Brittany spends a moment glancing into those chocolate brown orbs, getting heavily distracted before she clears her throat and dips her head to press a kiss to Santana's jaw line.

"How did you find us anyway?"

Santana smiles, closing her eyes at the feeling of Brittany's lips against her skin.

"I have this clairvoyant ability to just sense when there are attractive car thieves around."

Brittany frowns into Santana's neck, her brow pulling in at the middle, clearly un amused at Santana's explanation as she pulls back a little and looks directly at the woman. Santana giggles at Brittany's reaction and leans in to press her lips into the wrinkled skin of a pale forehead, almost instantaneously causing the furrow to disappear.

"Obviously, Sugar told me where you guys would be."

This turns Brittany's frown into a skeptical look of confusion.

"Sugar? I didn't know you two were friends."

Santana shrugs, "Yeah she's alright once you get past the superficial Richie bitch attitude and politically incorrect use of a pervasive developmental disorder."

Brittany blinks at Santana.

"Umm, well I wouldn't really call her perverted. I mean there was this one time where she walked in on Rory using the can, but in her defense he didn't exactly lock the door so…"

This time it's Santana's turn to blink at Brittany in confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"What?

Before Santana has the chance to ask Brittany what exactly she means, there's a crackle that comes over her walkie.

"Pierce, what's your exact location, over?"

Brittany jumps a little at the noise and is rewarded with a chuckle from Santana who leans back a little to allow Brittany to bring the walkie to her mouth and reply.

"I'm just outside the fence line, over." Brittany says, her eyes never leaving Santana's face. Brittany quirks her brow and smiles when Santana glances at her pink lips and then licks her own plump ones. As she lowers her walkie to her side, she tugs Santana back into her body, one hand fully wrapped around Santana's waist. Brittany leans down and rests her forehead against a tan one and sucks in a deep content breath at the smell that surrounds her senses.

Tonight it's tropical breeze mixed with a hint of that same sweet almond smell she's quickly becoming accustomed to on Santana.

A smile breaks out on her face and she tilts her chin in to softly connect her lips with Santana's.

"You're seriously a distraction you know that right?" Brittany says as her lips part from Santana's. A warm palm accompanied by strong but graceful fingers brush pleasantly across her cheek. Santana's eyes take a moment to regard the strong features of Brittany's face; the fine cut of her jaw, the smile lines that frame her lips and curve her cheekbones, the spatter of freckles that stretch across the bridge of her nose. Santana gets drawn in to pearly white teeth and intriguingly vivid sky blue eyes as they finally lock on her own studying eyes.

"I think I know what you mean."

Brittany smiles and dips in to kiss Santana again, this time drawing her body flush with her own and earning a little whimpered moan from Santana's mouth as their breasts, stomachs, and hips brush together. Brittany smiles further into the kiss and runs her one free hand down the curve of Santana's ass, the one that's currently covered in skintight leather.

"Are you sure this is safe to boost cars in?" She jokes, squeezing the toned flesh. Santana squeaks and jumps a little before she huffs and pulls back to slap Brittany in the arm.

"I think you'll see soon enough that I am more than capable of stealing cars in this outfit."

Brittany's eyebrows rise at the sound of that.

"Ohh I hear something that sounds an awful lot like a chall-eeeenge." She sing songs, a smug grin stretched across her lips and a twinkle shines in her eyes. Santana shakes her head and rolls her eyes a little. Brittany wraps her other arm around the woman, walkie-talkie be damned, and locks her hands together at the small of Santana's back keeping her pressed close to her front. She leans in and waggles her eyebrows at Santana, the grin still on her face.

No reaction.

She nuzzles her nose against Santana's cheek.

"You know you want toooooo."

Still nothing.

Brittany tilts her chin so her lips press to Santana's skin instead of her nose. She drags them across the bridge of a tan nose to the other side of Santana's face and her other cheek, pressing soft butterfly kisses along the way, before she angles her kisses up to the shell of Santana's ear.

"Come on, come onnnnn Saaaan, pleasssssse."

A smile finally cracks across Santana's lips and Brittany smirks jumping back with a triumphant 'Yes!' and a weird variation of the pee dance before she straightens up and smiles that same smug smirk in Santana's direction.

"Knew you'd cave." She says with another wink while she tilts in and presses a quick pop kiss on Santana's cheek as she gives her a pat on the ass before she's spinning around and strutting off in the opposite direction.

Santana's eyes just narrow in thought of reprisal, but she can't help the fluttering feeling that appears in her stomach, and soon enough she's forgetting retaliation in favor of scrambling after Brittany.

##################

Santana catches up to Brittany at another part of the fence some ten yards down the line, and she quickly gathers the company of the rest of Brittany's crew as Mike, Joe and even Rory, all dressed in black, stand next to their boss. They are trading their walkie-talkies in for ear comms when Santana steps near.

"Alright, as soon as Rory disarms the perimeter and exterior security systems and gets us access to the lot, we have a six minute window exactly. That's two minutes a car for four cars. Got it?"

Santana hears Brittany addressing her crew as she steps up to her side. Mike flashes a smile at her when he recognizes her and she kindly smiles back.

"Wait four? I thought I wusn't boosting?" Rory's fear laced voice cuts into the comfortable silence from Brittany's left. She turns to look at him with an un-amused look on her face.

"No Rory, you're not boosting, but we have Santana here that is more than capable of the job." She deadpans and Rory has the sense to look entirely sheepish and nod without saying another word. Brittany turns back to Santana.

"You got a kit?"

"Of course."

Brittany nods and returns her attention to Mike and Joe.

"Okay, so here's the line. There are four Honda Civics in this lot; two of them are 10's and the other two are 11's. Mike and Joe you take the 10's, Santana and I will take the 11's." Brittany explains the plan and everyone listens. When she's done they all turn to Rory and wait for his single.

"Okay, the fence is safe. You can scale it, wait at the top until I say go."

Brittany turns to Santana.

"Still think you can boost faster than me?"

Santana raises and eyebrow at Brittany's cockiness but gives her a sweet smile in return.

"You just concentrate on your own boost Pierce."

"A woman with confidence, I knew I had a good feeling about you." Brittany says with an exaggerated sigh and the motion of drawing her hand to her heart, "Want to make this interesting?"

Santana merely tilts her head in acceptance, her curiosity more than evident.

"Okay if I win then you have to…" She contemplates her options before she settles on the perfect solution, "Sing me a song while dancing all sexy in a red teddy."

Santana's eyes go wide.

"Brittany!" She hushes while momentarily glancing in Mike and Joe's direction, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing them both not paying attention to their boss or her words. She turns back to Brittany who is looking at her with her own raised eyebrow of curiosity.

Santana rolls her eyes.

"Fine, but if I win then you have to wash my car," She starts to say and then a devilish smile pulls at her lips, "In a bikini of my choice."

Brittany grins and nods, extending her hand to Santana.

"Deal because I have just the outfit in mind for you." Brittany says as her eyes rake up Santana's body.

They shake on it before they turn to the fence to scale it. At the top, each 'team' takes a moment to unclip a section of barbed wire so that they can safely clear the fence. When everyone's ready, they turn to get the go ahead from Rory. There's a few clicking of computer keys and a moment where Rory scratches his head before he glances up at Brittany.

"Alright, I'll give the count down." He speaks into the comm that both Brittany and Mike are wearing. Brittany nods, waiting for the count.

"Three, two, one. GO!"

Both Brittany and Santana scramble the rest of the way over the fence and touch the ground moments before Mike and Joe do a few feet away from them. Brittany's eyes, now fierce and focused, glowing an intense cerulean blue, glance in their direction.

"Two minutes each car when Rory gives the go ahead. If you get jammed up, abort and meet back at the shop."

Mike and Joe nod their understanding.

"Let's do this then."

Brittany turns to find Santana waiting patiently for her. She smiles coyly at the woman.

"Alright, let's go win me that bet." She says with extra bravado in her voice. Santana rolls her eyes once more but stretches her hand out in front of her as if to say 'lead the way', following closely after the woman as soon as she does.

################

Santana has successfully infiltrated the cabin of her Honda Civic. Currently, she's sitting in the driver's seat playing at cracking opening the steering column when she hears the not so distant sound of police sirens. A second later Brittany is at the side of her car.

"Shit, Rory says the cops are a minute out. Mike and Joe are ready to go, my car's a bust. The interiors shot, there's no turn around value. What's your estimated time look like?"

Santana glances down at her work noting immediately that it'll take maybe 30 more seconds for her to hotwire this car if she actually gets the chance to try.

"Forty seconds max," She starts to say and they both hear the screeching of tires and glance up to witness a black Honda Civic and a red Honda Civic racing towards the exit gates.

"Pierce, were going to pick up Rory and see if we can get the cops off your tail. Get out when you can. " Mike's voice comes over the comm in Brittany's ear.

"Got it Mike. Thanks. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She replies before she turns to look at Santana. She's about to ask another question when suddenly the sirens and lights are literally coming up right behind them.

"Shit, ditch the boost we've gotta get out of here." Brittany exclaims, grabbing Santana by the arm and yanking her out of the car. They turn to look down the line of cars that surround their intended boost and discover patrol cars now posted at the exit that Mike and Joe just narrowly escaped through and flashlights flickering all down the line and quickly heading in their direction.

"Here, this way."

Brittany's grip on Santana's forehand turns into a grasp of her hand as she carefully leads them away from the approaching cops and into a slightly more secluded section of cars. Out of the cops search but still close enough to hear what's going on. Brittany crouches down to the ground by a car and Santana crouches down with her, noticing and not having a problem with the way Brittany seems to quickly and protectively pull her closer into her own body and keep one arm wrapped firmly around her.

Santana can feel Brittany's breath paint the skin of her neck and she tries to hold her own while straining to hear what the cops are talking about.

"Dammit, they aren't here!" One of the officers yells.

"You don't say Smythe." Brittany recognizes the voice as that of Captain Shuester. "I thought you said they'd be here."

"That's what my CI told me." Officer Smythe replies and Brittany's eyebrows furrow. She turns her head to glance at Santana in question but the other woman looks to be as lost as she does.

"Well it appears that your CI was full of shit. Damn bastard, I know this was Pierce's work. We could have had her."

Brittany doesn't really get the chance to hear anything more of the confusing conversation that is occurring right before her. There's something that seems entirely wrong about the situation, and she's wondering what the hell it all means, but before she can try to figure anything out Santana is turning away from the scene and tugging on Brittany's hand for her to follow.

They approach the fence line at the back of the lot and Santana digs out a pair of her thick wire cutters before glancing at Brittany.

"Keep watch and give us cover?"

Brittany nods and takes a few steps away from Santana to watch out for the cops. It only takes a few minutes before Santana is ushering Brittany back to the fence and they are both escaping through the hole she has made. Once through, Brittany takes Santana's hand again and they slink quietly off into the night, careful to watch their back for any cops that might spot their retreat.

################

They've gotten a good ten minutes away from the lot when Brittany finally slows down and turns to glance at Santana.

"What the hell were they talking about back there? CI's?" She inquires, the grip she holds on a tan hand softening a little as she recognizes that Santana's out of danger, at least for the moment, and she can ease up on the protection.

Santana shrugs in response to Brittany's question, "I don't know what they were talking about but CI usually means confidential or criminal informant."

Brittany looks at her with a look of curious skepticism. Santana ducks her head, suddenly very sheepish.

"I watch a lot of S.V.U." She quietly admits and Brittany smiles, stopping in her tracks and tugging Santana to a stop as well. When Santana turns around to glance at why Brittany has stopped, all she sees is a bright smile and sparkling eyes as Brittany tugs her back into her body and plants her lips on her.

For the first time in a long time, Brittany feels like every nerve in her body is firing and she's finally fully alive.

Their moment doesn't last near as long as they would hope for though, as they both become aware of sirens that appear to be approaching their location, not too far in the distance. Brittany reluctantly pulls back from the kiss and glances around. It takes her a moment to spot what she's looking for but when she does, she grins and turns to look at Santana.

"Come on, I've got a plan." She says with a mischievous smirk and before Santana can even have a chance to be worried about what that smirk could mean Brittany is tugging her off in another direction.

###############

Turns out, Brittany's plan is to steal an immaculately restored and incredible condition 1969 Ford Boss 429 Mustang, in an electric blue color that even Santana can't believe is perfect, because it matches Brittany's eyes to a fucking T.

Of course, the color isn't what has Brittany so excited, as she is so eager to supply to Santana, "There were only like 860 of these babies made. And most of them came in black or red. God Santana, do you know how fucking long I've wanted to find and boost _this_ car?"

Santana, of course, knows the specks of the Boss. She wouldn't be a very good car thief if she didn't, but she had absolutely no idea how much a car like the one sitting pretty in front of them could excite Brittany so much. But she's all too willing to encourage Brittany's joy.

"She's nice Britt." Santana says, her eyes glancing from the 429 engine that's peeking out of the scoop on the hood all the way to the back of the streamline backend. Brittany gives her a look like she's crazy.

"Nice? Santana this car is basically sex on wheels. Not to mention she's got a retail value of about two hundred large."

"Two hundred large?" Santana asks with raised brows, admittedly that was not something she was aware of. Brittany nods and Santana chuckles, "Well why didn't you lead with that?"

Brittany rolls her eyes as she takes a step towards the Boss before glancing over her shoulder.

"You have no sense of real value Santana." She teases and Santana scoffs in mock irritation, her hands immediately going to her hips before a smirk covers her face and she steps closer to Brittany. Wrapping her arms around a toned waist, Santana stretches up on her tiptoes to husk in Brittany's ear.

"I think it could be argued that I have some sense of taste, unless of course you don't consider yourself tasteful."

Brittany chuckles and turns her head so they're looking in each other's eyes.

"I suppose it could be argued that you have some decent taste."

Santana smiles and nods before leaning forward to kiss Brittany's lips.

"Mmmhmmm, very tasty," She says and then her lips brush across Brittany's earlobe, "But that's not my favorite taste from you." She husks and Brittany nearly collapses in Santana's arms, shuddering very noticeably at her words and drawing a laugh from the other woman as she helps her stand back up straight.

Brittany shoots her a warning glare.

"Okay enough from you right now, let's work on boosting this car."

Santana complies, detaching from Brittany and walking around to the other side of the car. A few minutes later, Brittany is turning the ignition of the car and cranking the engine to life in a body-numbing hum.

With another pleased smirk, Brittany glances over to her passenger, "By the way, I think me boosting this baby qualifies as a win in the bet." She says with a wink before she guns the car into motion and they go speeding back to the Pierce 'base'.

#################

Brittany and Santana are laughing when she pulls the car into her shop some fifteen minutes later but the moment is short lived when both the Pierce and the Lopez crew, sans Mike, Joe and Hunter, rush up to the side of the car.

"Holy shit Brittany! We thought that'd you'd been nabbed." Quinn exclaims as Brittany and Santana begin to climb out of the car.

Brittany's brow furrows, "What the hell are you talking about Quinn? Where are Mike and Joe?"

Quinn's face seems to pale even more if possible and she slowly shakes her head, her eyes darting briefly to Puck and then Finn and then Santana.

"They haven't come back yet, they couldn't because the cops just paid us a visit and were asking a lot of questions."

"What kind of questions?"

Quinn swallows, "They were asking where you were and what not. Hunter told them you were out for the evening, but then David overheard one of the scanners talking about a robbery in attempt at the exact same car lot that you guys where at. We don't know how they found out but…." She trails off again, looking once more in the direction of Santana.

Brittany narrows her eyes and steps closer to Quinn.

"But what Quinn?"

"She thinks that Santana ratted out your position, which is pure bullshit!" Puck suddenly calls from behind Brittany.

"It's not bullshit when she's the only one in your crew that knew about Brittany, Mike, Joe and Rory's whereabouts." Quinn calls back. Brittany's head whips back and forth trying to keep up with the chatter before she settles her attention on Rory.

"Is that true Rory?" The boy merely gives a meek nod of her head and Brittany's eyes go wide.

There are suddenly a lot of things that are clicking in Brittany's mind that make more sense now.

Santana's been in her garage more than once; she easily could have been the one to sabotage the Mustang she knew Brittany would race against her. That was the main way she got in on Brittany's good graces, when she 'saved' Brittany.

And Santana knew Jesse before she came here. It was her crew that had all the dirty details on him, and at the warehouse party that Brittany got thrown out of, Santana made contact with Brody, Jesse's right hand man, first. And she seemed to have no trouble being quickly accepted into Jesse's crew.

Then tonight, Santana shows up at the exact spot that Brittany's at, moments before their big boost, only to be held up when boosting her own car and almost getting caught by the cops.

Brittany whirls around on Santana, her eyes burning with a fire that's never been there before. She's never felt so betrayed.

"You did know, every part. You would have been in the perfect position." Brittany says the words come out in utter disbelief. Her brain's saying that 'those are the facts man' but her heart is pinching in a way that says 'no it can't be'. But what else can she think?

"You don't actually believe that." Santana returns, but her voice shakes with a nervousness that tells Brittany she doesn't even believe what she's actually saying. Brittany shakes her head and turns to walk away from Santana, and her crew, heading in the direction of her shop office entrance.

Santana manages to catch up to her.

"Brittany! Dammit, won't you just fucking listen to me." Santana demands and Brittany halts in her tracks and spins around to face her.

"Why should I listen to you? And further more, why should I trust you?" She asks harshly.

"You should trust me because you know me. Brittany, you can't tell me that the other night didn't mean as much to you as it did to me. That wasn't just sex and you know it."

Brittany straightens up at Santana's words, there's a flash of something in her eyes for a moment before it's gone and concealed with an even greater harshness.

"We screwed Santana, that doesn't mean I know _anything_ about you." Brittany declares, venom in her tone. She turns on her heels and exits the shop, leaving Santana staring after her with a look of shock and anguish.

But Brittany Pierce doesn't let anyone past her walls and into her heart. And it was a mistake for her to even try.

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**So admittedly this chapter went in a little darker direction than I had intended, but don't worry I already know what's going to happen in the next one. Of course, that doesn't exactly mean anything, just that I know. I'm a horrible person, ahhhh. But I'll let you in on a secret...you just have to complete this sentence: You'll never know what it'll lead to next, but fighting usually ends with the best make-up (blank) :) (P.S. it rhymes) **

**But I still really truly love all of you to death! *Big ole internet group hug to all you awesome people out there* **

**Just curious, anyone interested in seeing Brittany or Santana (or both of them, together) racing on a bike? Tell me your thoughts :)**


	17. They Don't Teach You That in Driver's Ed

**I am soooooo sorry for this wait my dear sweet readers! You all are seriously amazing! Seriously! This chapter might not be what everyone was expecting, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. And to the guest who inquired about Santana's sexuality, that will probably come up later, but not in this chapter. Thanks y'all!**

* * *

**Chapter 17: They Don't Teach You That in Driver's Ed**

Brittany's gotten as far as inside her shop office, and is intent on swinging the door shut, hard, when a small tan palm connects with the door and prevents Brittany from fully closing it.

There's a clanging noise that echoes through the shop from where Santana's palm slaps the metal surface, and suddenly she is very much speaking her mind.

"Hey! Brittany! Don't walk away, it's not fair and you don't get to do that."

Brittany finds Santana's left hand wrapping around her forearm in a firm but non-forceful manner. She glances at the hand for a moment before averting her cold blue eyes up into deep brown, gritting her teeth together in an effort to not allow that beautiful depth draw her in.

"We're both big girls Santana, which means I can do whatever the hell I want." She returns, ripping her arm out of Santana's grasp. But Santana doesn't stop there. Instead she grips Brittany by the shoulders and spins her around, into the office only to slam her up against the door they've just walked through effectively closing said door and trapping Brittany.

"No, fuck Brittany, just listen to me for a god damn second!" She shouts as Brittany struggles in her grasp. "Why the hell would I do something like that?"

Brittany's eyes turn on her again, still ice cold, "I don't know Santana, maybe you're getting paid a lot of money. Maybe it's a thrill for you."

Santana looks at her in disbelief, "Are you actually listening to yourself right now? I have no reason to do any of that stuff, I have no reason to betray you Brittany. I care about you."

"Those are just words Santana."

Santana shakes her head as if dispelling any such thoughts from her mind before continuing with her words, "I hate Jesse more than anyone else in this world Brittany. He's the reason my brother, the only family I have left, is in jail and the sole reason my crew and myself are being hunted like animals. You think I'd ever side with him for something like that? Do you really think that I would sleep with you, fall for you and then stab you in the back? What kind of person do you take me for?"

"Apparently someone that I can't rely on." Is Brittany's harsh reply, seemingly missing most of what Santana has said to her.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"Honestly, I don't know what I believe anymore. Because for a second there, you meant more to me than anything else in the world."

Brittany's words drip with certain finality of which Santana's nowhere near prepared to accept. As Brittany pushes against Santana's hands that are keeping her firmly stuck against the metal door, Santana pushes back slamming Brittany's back harder into the door. Blue eyes won't meet her own, but Santana can tell that Brittany doesn't really want to fight her.

Santana thinks that if Brittany did then she would be on the ground by now.

She loosens up on the pressure she's putting on Brittany's shoulders and blue eyes finally snap up to her own. Santana swallows as she looks into those eyes. Once so filled with possibilities and a careful joy that was magical to witness, now seem clouded and dull and lacking any sort of resolution.

In fact, Brittany looks downright terrified right now.

Santana's eyebrows pull together and she studies the rest of Brittany's for a second. Her chest is heaving up and down in heavy pants, her fists are clenched tightly at her sides but she refuses to use them, her lips are pulled thin but there is a hint of worry in them. Santana fully steps back, giving them both a little space, before she gently reaches out and cups Brittany's cheek in her palm.

As her thumb strokes softly over the pale skin, Santana murmurs, "Tell me what you're scared of. I want to do this with you, I want us to do this together."

Something flashes in Brittany's eyes for a moment before they return to stoic and steeled. Santana leans in a little closer.

"Please."

It seems to be the word that sets Brittany in motion. One second she looks to be on the brink of tears and the next she's pushing Santana backwards until she can hoist her up to perch on the edge of the desk. A squeak escapes Santana's lips at the action, but is quickly cut off and replaced by a groan when Brittany's lips attached to her neck. Santana tries to react, but Brittany is all hands and lips and tongue and driving her absolutely crazy.

"I need to hear you tell me the truth about some things."

Santana nods her compliance, as if she has the capacity to do anything else right now.

"Did you sabotage Hunter's Mustang that one night?" Brittany breathes into the skin of Santana's neck. It takes a second for her to register the question, but when she does she desperately shakes her head.

"No, I would never do that to you." Santana manages to choke out through her the haze that her body is currently surrendering to under Brittany's control.

"And the night of Jesse's party, you didn't know anyone?"

"I-oh god-I didn't know anyone but Jesse, and I didn't know him personally." Santana answers, momentarily distracted by Brittany racking her fingers across the small of her back as they slip under her top and across warm smooth skin.

"And tonight, how did you find us?"

Santana's body shivers involuntarily as Brittany's hands slide around to her front and caress the definition of Santana's abs before they reach the underside of her bra, Brittany's lips continue to work a fiery path across Santana's neck.

"I swear that I got the information from Sugar," Santana hushes, her heavy breathing now interfering with her ability to speak in more articulate ways. "You can check my phone, she was the last person I called."

Brittany knows that under the situation, Santana would have to be a damn good liar to keep up her tales. Even Brittany would have a hard time telling the truth if Santana was kissing her neck and closing in on her breasts the way that Brittany is right now. But there's still something about the whole situation that really fucking bugs the shit out of Brittany.

And why the hell would Quinn insinuate that it was Santana if she didn't have the solid facts?

What the fuck is Brittany doing jumping to conclusions as well? She's typically the one to keep her head in situations like this.

But, Brittany knows the real reason she's trying so hard to take it out on someone else.

"You want to help me out?" Brittany husks into Santana's neck as her fingers find their way underneath Santana's bra, pushing the material up and away from her heated flesh, as she slowly starts to knead at the supple mounds. Santana airs out a moan as her head tilts back in pleasure but she licks her lips and nods her head, her hands stretching forward to rest on Brittany's shoulders and ground her.

Brittany leans her lips into Santana's ear, "Then let me have you."

Santana's eyes open, two shades darker than normal and bordering on black, and she looks straight into twilight blue.

"I told you Brittany, I'm already yours."

And with that, Brittany's hands drop from Santana's breasts and her fingers fumble with the zipper and button of the ridiculously tight leather pants Santana decided to wear. Thankfully, to great skill or otherwise, it takes Brittany less than a second to unhook and zip them down, and even less time to tug them down to Santana's knees.

Brittany shifts her lips up and connects them with Santana's as the fingers of her right hand slip down to cup the woman's sex. Moans fill the room as Brittany comes into contact with an incredible wetness and Santana's hips buck forward and slide her ass to the edge of the desk.

Stepping forward, Brittany pushes further into the kiss, putting more pressure on Santana's center and stepping so that one of Santana's now bare from the knee up thighs slides between Brittany's legging covered legs. She groans into Santana's mouth as the other woman catches on and lifts her leg up a little, putting steady pressure on Brittany's own aching sex.

A whimper escapes Brittany's lips, moist and hot against Santana's own swollen lips, as tan hands grip firmly at slim hips and tug Brittany's body closer and harder onto her leg as Santana flexes her thigh muscles and trails her lips back to pink pouty ones. She jerks unexpectedly as Brittany's fingers push aside her soaked panties and glide up and down her wetness, parting her folds and dipping closer to her entrance.

There's an unspoken bond between them. An incessant need from one to the other to have an indistinguishable nearness, like the opposite polar ends of a pair of magnets connecting. It's futile to deny the pull, and impossible to resist.

The push and pull that both of their bodies are currently working with was inevitable from the start. As is the eventual outcome.

"Oh…_fuck_, Britt." Santana is the first to submit a mess of semi-coherent words, and they tumble from her mouth breathlessly but bare an undeniable affirmation to her enjoyment of the current situation. Brittany's fingers stroke with purpose, taking only a moment to declare their intent before Santana is squeaking at the feeling of entrance from two long slender fingers.

Suddenly the breath is ripped from Santana's lungs and her hands are gripping desperately to the shoulders of the woman whose fingers are knuckle deep inside of her.

Brittany shifts forward again, her hand thrusting into Santana with the motion as her hips grind down and find friction for her own center. They start a rhythmic rocking motion, Brittany drawing her fingers in and out of Santana, dipping them deep and curling them at the precise spot she knows will eventually make Santana fall apart, and Santana flexing and lifting her thigh to provide steady pressure to Brittany's core.

The kissing has ceased in favor of panting out deep breaths between each other. Brittany's forehead rests on Santana's shoulder, her head lulling back and forth as she pushes Santana to her climax and works on reaching her own. The build up is gradual, but explicit, exceptional, and intense.

"S-San." Brittany whimpers, the grip her left hand holds on Santana's exposed hip becoming tighter as the coil in her own belly continues to build. Brittany feels Santana clench around her fingers at the whimper of her name from pink lips, and she sucks in a sharp breath. Brittany's eyes squeeze shut, a mixture of pleasure from the constant pressure on her core and heartache from the immense amount of confusion and emotions that are building in her chest.

She's tumbling, tripping and falling all at the same time and she doesn't have any clue on where she's going to land, or what she's going to achieve when she gets there.

Santana's hands drift down to the curve of Brittany's ass and pull the woman's hips harder onto her thigh. Brittany gasps at the feeling, her own efforts faltering briefly as that tension spikes. With another hard rut against Santana's leg, Brittany comes undone. Her breath comes out in a stuttered gasp of a moan, her teeth biting at the exposed flesh of Santana's neck as wave after wave of her orgasm washes over her. Brittany's breathing comes out raggedly as her forehead rests against Santana's shoulder, her eyes remain closed and it's only when Santana lets out a barely audible whine that Brittany becomes aware of the fact she still has her fingers buried in the woman.

With renewed vigor, Brittany begins to pump her fingers in and out of Santana again, drawing the woman closer to her own intense orgasm. One deep curl of her fingers, and a brush of her thumb across Santana's clit and Brittany's got the woman tripping into her own orgasm and clenching unbelievably tight around Brittany's fingers.

A broken moan of Brittany's name escapes Santana's swollen dry lips, and she shakes in the long pale arms of the woman before her. Brittany's lips automatically search out Santana's, and when they finally connect the kiss is sloppy and wet but passionate and evocative. But as Santana's tongue traces the seam of Brittany's lips, something snaps in the taller woman's blind but emotional disposition.

She's careful as she slips her fingers out of Santana, but there's a cloud that draws over her heart and mind in that moment, and without so much as a indicative look into questioning brown eyes, Brittany steps back.

"I…I can't."

The sole words that Brittany utters reflect a deeper entanglement than she could have ever imagined. They are all she speaks before she turns away from Santana and leaves the woman blindsided with confusion and aching remorse, in search of some sort of answer to an impractical conundrum.

####################

"Hey, poster child for Martha Stewart living, we need to talk."

Quinn's head snaps up from its place buried in a book. Her hazel eyes fleetingly flash with fear as she registers the very assertive Santana, who simply oozes with a fiery influence that's impossible to overlook. Quinn's mouth gaps open in a misguided attempt to reply but the foreboding woman baring down on her calmly shakes her head and snaps her hands together in the universal sign for 'zip it the fuck up'.

"Let me revise my previous statement, blonde Mary Poppins, and let this little spoon full of sugar go down; I'm going to talk and _you're_ going to listen."

Quinn's eyes narrow eager to defy the woman's request but in her current stature, she's in no position to argue with Santana. She'll be the first to admit that she's defenseless while sitting down. Besides, if she's being completely honest she's quite curious what the woman has to say. Properly placing her book to the side, Quinn folds her arms across her chest and waits for Santana to speak.

The thing about Santana is that even if she's confused beyond belief and still terribly disconcerted by Brittany's abrupt departure and even more perplexing last words, she's strong enough to get to the bottom of this. And you'd better believe she damn well will get to the bottom of it. It's worth the time and any trouble to Santana.

Brittany is worth it all to her.

"Here's what I know, you're a bitch who seems to have it out for me for some unknown reason. I honestly don't really give a fuck what you think about me, but I do care about Brittany. So, you're going to tell me where it is she would run off to when she's really sad."

Quinn scoffs at Santana's words, eyeing the woman up and down with a barely disguised look of distaste, "Well you got one thing right, Jennifer Lopez, I do have it out for you for treating Brittany like anything less than she deserves. The truth is that you're a user, I see it all the time, waltz right in like you own the place and siren-call your way under everyone's skin. But that doesn't work on me, and even though you have somehow managed to worm your way into Brittany's heart, it stops here. I'm not about to let you tear her down anymore than you-"

"Enough!" Is bellowed in an echo through the room.

Both woman are shocked into silence by the deceptively more powerful than it would seem voice of Sugar Motta. The younger woman, her face a mask of bitter disappointment, takes a step further into the garage to address the two relentlessly bickering woman that currently occupy it. With her fists clenched tightly at her sides, and her brow furrowed in a just under the wire anger, Sugar turns first to Quinn.

"I know that you all think I'm just some rich bimbo who likes to blow daddy's money," Sugar starts to say and Quinn's jaw flexes in a telling sign that she wishes to respond, but Sugar doesn't allow her the opportunity, "But I'm much smarter than I look."

Something about the way she says the statement with such unyielding conviction draws a brief pop laugh from Santana. That will be her undoing, as Sugar quickly swirls to face the fiery Latina, her own heated blood boiling just under the surface of her skin and making her appearance formidable with the blaze of her brown eyes.

"And _you_!" Sugar exclaims, "I've known Brittany long enough to understand that the best way into that girl's heart, and the best way to stay there, is by making nice with her family which just so happens to be us. So no more insults and catty remarks towards anyone."

Santana's mouth snaps shut, her brain unable to fully process what the shorter woman is saying.

Sugar turns back to Quinn, "As for you, you should know better Quinn. When has Brittany's gut ever been wrong?"

Quinn's brow furrows as she contemplates the question.

"When?"

"Never."

"Exactly, which means that Santana is telling the truth. She wasn't the one that sabotaged anything, and she certainly wasn't the one who ratted Brittany and the boys out." Sugar supplies, and Santana finds herself gradually taking a liking to this strange strange girl.

"But," Quinn starts to argue.

"But nothing Quinn."

"I just want to know how you're so sure. I trust Brittany I do, but there are too many coincidences. How do we know that Santana's not just using Brittany to get somewhere?"

"Uhh, hi I'm Santana. Still here." Santana grumbles from Sugar's left. Quinn merely has enough patience to give her a pointed look. Sugar on the other hand has other intentions when she turns to readdress Santana.

"Are you using Brittany to get something else?"

Santana's eyes go wide, impressed at the blatant inquiry and shocked at the casualness of the whole situation. She knows her answer though, and supplies it faster than a bullet shot out of a gun.

"No. I wouldn't do that to Brittany."

Quinn remains unconvinced. Because really? When has the word, of a known criminal no less, ever held any validity? She cocks her eyebrow and crosses her arms as she glares in Santana's direction.

"No really," Santana says, her body deflates. She lifts a hand to run it carelessly through her hair, "I know that you all don't know me very well but I think I've made a pretty good case for myself for you to at least trust me. And I'd never do anything to hurt Brittany. I…" Santana trails off for a moment, much to the chagrin of her two person audience who appear to be hanging on her every word now as if the very next statement that comes out of her plump lips will be the very revelation of the world.

"I care about her. She's intelligent, gorgeous, and has a wicked sense of wit and snark that nearly rivals my own. I'd be stupid to let that go."

There's a beat of silence before Sugar unabashedly claps her hands together and releases a drawn out "Awwwww." Much to Santana's distaste.

She knew she was getting too sappy.

"I'm not saying I believe you," Quinn starts to say, her stance and general expression still stoic and icy, "But it seems as though you're the first person that's gotten this close to Brittany in a long time. So I'm willing to give you a chance to prove me wrong."

Santana's lips pull slightly in a minimal smile.

"That's all I'm asking."

Quinn takes a moment to really analyze Santana as she stands before her until she decides that she'll have to do.

"Okay, I'll tell you where she'll be, but you have to understand one thing."

"I'm all ears Sandra Dee."

##################

Brittany's knees sink softly into the moss-covered earth as tears spill freely from her clouded blue eyes. Tentatively, as if afraid of being bitten, she reaches out and traces her fingers over the engraved letters on the smooth surface of weathered marble.

_Garrick Raymond Pierce_

As Brittany sits there in front of her late father's grave, a gust of wind picks up in the area surrounding her. Brittany doesn't miss the irony of the situation.

"You know dad, I'd think this was funny if it wasn't so fucked up." Brittany speaks aloud, her voice just barely above a whisper but still strong enough to be carried away in the wind. She shakes her head and drops her eyes to the ground. "I think that I could be happy."

Brittany laughs at her own words, again the irony does not slip her mind. Her chin tilts skyward in some kind of silent plea to the heavens.

"Despite all of the shit in my life, it finally feels like I've found someone that's just for me. Someone who understands me, who can look through all the bullshit of my life and still want to stand by my side." Brittany continues speaking to the inanimate block of stone that rests before her, the only thing she has left of her father. "But it's funny because even though I know I'm on to something good, I can't seem to get past all of the bad."

Brittany takes another deep breath as her hands dig into the soft ground beside her. There's a tear waiting to fall from her eye, but she won't give it the satisfaction. Not yet.

There's a brief moment of silence.

"And it's your fault. It's all your fucking fault."

At her last words, Brittany's fortitude gives way to the crestfallen feeling that rests in her ribcage, in the spot that formally hosted her heart. A sob wracks through her body and she crumples forward in a heap. Any sense of pride Brittany once held is quickly shattered by the pain of her emotions.

Brittany's pain is too fierce and all consuming that she doesn't hear the sound of a car door closing on the small asphalt path behind her. She doesn't hear the soft footfall of careful feet as they carry their owner to Brittany's side. She catches a whiff of vanilla and almond, but she doesn't respond until a warm palm is placed gently on her shoulder.

Santana kneels by Brittany's side but remains silent, gathering a fragment of hope when a pale hand comes up to rest upon her own. She can only imagine how Brittany's hurting as she reads the date of Mr. Pierce's death, one that just so happens to correspond with today's date.

She's no stranger to loosing a parent, but she wonders if Brittany ever really had anyone like Santana did to help her cope with the loss.

Santana is jolted back into reality when Brittany's voice, cracked with the pressure of pain, filters softly up to her ears.

"My dad, h-he said t-that he just let my m-mom leave, b-but I know t-the truth." She says and her glossy tear filled eyes finally met Santana's, "He chased her away, and then s-she never came b-back and then he couldn't handle it and he left me."

Santana's heart clenches at Brittany's confession. She makes no effort to reply, entirely unsure of what she could say in the first place. She squeezes her hand that rests on Brittany's shoulder, if nothing else allowing the woman to understand that she's there for her.

"He should have been here…"

Brittany's words trail off as she hangs her head again. Dysfunctional family, and really messed up childhood aside, a dad is still a dad and Brittany didn't get to have one when she really needed it.

There are a few more minutes of silence that pass as the tears escape mutely from Brittany's eyes, until the presence next to her enlightens something deep inside and she releases the ragged breath of her aching heart. Brittany shuffles towards Santana, eager for some kind of bond.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," Brittany chokes out as she turns and hopelessly falls into Santana's arms. The other woman is swift as she wraps Brittany up in a firm embrace, stroking her hands up and down a trembling back. Brittany's face buries into the crook of Santana's neck, "I don't think it was you that did any of that stuff Santana."

Santana nods her head. Brittany's words are bordering incoherency, and the pain in her tone breaks Santana's heart, but she's steadfast to help the woman if it's the last thing she does.

"Okay Brittany." She speaks temporarily shocked at the way her voice comes out so raspy and deep. As if she hasn't spoken for several years. She feels Brittany shaking her head into the crook of her neck as words are mumbled along with the action.

"I just don't know if I can do this."

Santana squeezes Brittany nearer, "Shh, it's okay. You can do this, we can do this."

"I'm not your father Brittany." She then says, her tone completely serious and entirely genuine.

This gets Brittany attention and her sobs halt in quick succession as she glances up to look into sincere brown eyes.

"I'm not him Brittany," Santana starts to say, this time softer. Brittany shakes her head furiously.

"No please, don't talk about him. It's not fair."

Santana cups Brittany's cheeks in her hand, "I'm not here to take things from you and walk away."

Brittany is still shaking her head and the tears return to falling freely again.

"I care about you Brittany, I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone else. And that means I get to tell you this, the best way I can." Santana tries again but Brittany continues to struggle. Finally, Santana leans in and presses her lips against Brittany's. A certain surreal calm washes over the woman the moment Santana's lips touch hers. She stops fighting and instead reaches her own hands up to desperately grab at Santana's face.

The kiss is slow but gut punching. Like Brittany's just gotten punched right in the feels, in a strangely very weird but very satisfying way. Santana rushes nothing, but gives Brittany everything. As they break for air, Santana lips press fervently into the skin of Brittany's temple, cheeks, and forehead and Brittany succumbs to the overwhelming notion that Santana's being more than truthful as she buries her face in a tan neck once more.

Brittany hiccups another sob but her nose brushes against Santana's neck in such a way the other woman is sure that Brittany is agreeing with her. She strokes loose tear soaked strands of blonde hair out of Brittany's face and leans in to press a kiss to her temple. Pale eyelids give way to cloudy blue eyes, but Santana can distinctly tell that even this shade is brighter than before. She offers Brittany a smile and gets a small one in return.

Santana leans in and places a soft kiss on Brittany's lips, "Can I take you home?"

A reply is offered as Brittany stands on her feet and holds her hand down to Santana.

################

It doesn't take long for Brittany to realize that Santana is taking her to _her_ home, and not to Brittany's as she originally thought. Something about that thought makes Brittany's heart uncharacteristically flip in excitement.

The ride is silent, but not without meaning. Brittany takes the time to silently chastise herself for being such a seemingly hopeless and very much less than an awesome badass. In short terms, a wimp. She sighs heavily at her realization, her brain automatically calculating ways that she can redeem herself.

That is, until Santana's hand slips calmly into her own and twists around so that their fingers link together.

Perhaps Brittany could get used to this sappiness, at least for the time being.

"You okay?" Santana's question is gentle but doesn't come off making Brittany sound like an invalid. For that she is eternally grateful.

Brittany nods and swings her head to look in Santana's direction, "Actually I am."

Santana smiles in return, both at the genuineness of her answer and the smile that accompanies Brittany's lips as she gives it. Brittany takes it a step further by lifting Santana's knuckles to her lips and pressing a soft kiss against them. Santana's heart flutters at the action and she feels a blush creep up her neck, and Brittany doesn't miss the flustered manner that Santana is suddenly in.

Brittany smirks. She's still got it.

Brittany's overall confidence has more than returned when Santana pulls up outside of the townhouse that she's staying at. They exit the car and walk in silence to the door where Santana lets them in. Tossing her keys on the coffee table by the couch, the shorter woman looks over her shoulder to find Brittany watching her with interest.

With a smile Santana asks, "You can lay down for a little if you want."

Nodding her compliance, Brittany follows Santana into the bedroom. She waits on the bed while the other woman ruffles through her drawers. When Santana turns to face Brittany again her senses are overloaded by the other woman pressing into her body, hands on her hips and lips covering lips. Brittany backs them into the dresser and earns a muffled grunt from Santana as her back presses into the wood and Brittany's tongue dances into her mouth.

Santana's arms automatically wrap around Brittany's neck as the taller woman's hands dip under the back of Santana's shirt, gliding across smooth tan skin as she pulls the woman even closer. Their lips detach in a wet pop and Santana gasps for air as Brittany's lips curve a trail down the ledge of her jaw and continue on to the column of her neck. Heartbeats simultaneously increase in a rapid progression as Brittany's teeth and tongue nip and soothe respectively over the skin of Santana's neck.

Brittany takes a step back and draws Santana with her, lips never leaving the pulse point she's severely focused on, and Santana's hopeless not to follow. It doesn't take Brittany long to lie Santana down onto her bed and follow after her, crawling to hover above her as her lips nip back up to Santana's and delve in for a wet kiss. Santana's hands tangle in blonde hair, pulling Brittany closer and holding her still at the same time. She can't get enough of her. Surrounding her, invading every part of her senses, overwhelming the muscles in her body and forcing every single synapse to fire at will.

But, this isn't why she brought Brittany back, and when she feels nimble fingers unclasping the button on her pants and slipping under the tight material Santana's body shakes in an involuntary reaction, ripping her lips from Brittany's in a strangled gasp.

"B-Brittany."

Burning cerulean blue eyes regard her with hunger and desire. And soft lips fit against the shell of her ear.

"You're so sexy when you say my name." Brittany husks into Santana's ear, forcing her hips to jerk. Or maybe that's the feeling of the pads of Brittany's fingers running over the very damp panties that cover her center.

Either way, Santana's mind short circuits for just a brief moment.

Times five.

It's long enough for Brittany to hypnotize her again with a kiss.

"Actually, you're sexy no matter what you're doing." Brittany amends her previous statement and Santana gasps again as fingers continue to slip up and down her center. Brittany cranes her neck down to nip at Santana's nipples through her shirt, working her mouth over them in such a way that Santana's pretty sure she could come just from that feeling alone.

But she has to pull things together, because as much as she doesn't want things to stop she has to make one thing clear to Brittany. Before it's too late. With more effort and strength than she thought she possessed, Santana manages to push enough on Brittany's shoulders that the woman leans back and looks down at her. Santana's breath escapes her mouth as Brittany's hair falls down in perfect strands, curtaining her face in such a way that Santana's sure she's never seen anything more beautiful.

It takes her a second to gather her thoughts again and then she blinks "Brittany, you don't have to fuck me right now to prove anything to me."

Brittany's eyes flash with something before they return to desire, "What if I want to fuck you?" She inquires with a playful inflection before dipping her head to press her lips to Santana's neck once more.

"You mean more to me than that." Santana gasps out, practically turning to mush beneath Brittany's attention. Blonde hair pulls back from blanketing Santana's face and blue eyes regard her with deep concentration. Santana gathers her wits about her and lifts her hands up to frame Brittany's face, desperately trying to block out the growing felling that's building between her legs.

"You don't have to fuck me senseless to get me to stay, I'm not going to leave you." Santana whispers into the room as she stares into Brittany's eyes. There are a few moments of intense deep eye contact, before Brittany slides her hand carefully from Santana's pants and then drops suddenly in a heap on top of the woman, burying her face in the crook of a tan neck.

"I'm sorry." She apologies one more time, her voice cracking with emotion. Santana wraps her arms around Brittany's back and holds her close pressing kisses to the side of her head and face that she can reach.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, I just need you to know that."

It takes a few seconds but Brittany nods her acceptance of Santana's words into the crook of her neck.

Santana is about to suggest they both get up and get changed and lie down for a little bit when there's suddenly a knock on the front door. Brittany tenses in her arms and her head shoots up in alert. Santana soothes her hands up and down Brittany's arms that rest at her sides.

"I'll get the door."

Brittany allows Santana to slide out from under her, and watches her adjust her pants before she walks out of the bedroom. Brittany waits about thirty seconds, listening to Santana open the door and quiet murmuring before curiosity gets the best of her and she steps out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

Who Brittany finds standing framed in the doorway is not whom she's expecting to see, and apparently the other person holds the same opinion about her as well.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?"

* * *

**Again, so sorry it took a little longer to get this out. I had to work through the next two chapters to make sure everything fits together, but that's good news for you right? Means you'll get another update sometime soon, I mean if that's alright with you and everything ;) Thanks again so much to everyone, and welcome to all you new kids! I'd be happy to hear what you think so far.**

**I have also decided that I will be trying to post every Friday now (with the exception of this last Friday, because FF wouldn't cooperate) and if you don't get an update then, expect it on Monday. **

**Oh also, I'm working on a follow up to my "It Was Only Ever You" story. Anyone interested? **


	18. Fixing a Flat Tire

**As promised...**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Fixing a Flat tire **

"_What the hell is she doing here?"_

Santana's posture stiffens as she slowly turns around to find Brittany has joined her and the individual currently occupying her front door. Blue eyes blaze with a certain fierce protectiveness that Santana's been privy to before. Her eyes widen because she thinks she knows what's going to happen next.

"Brittany, I swear I can explain this." Santana begins to say as Brittany storms towards the door and the believed 'intruder' she thinks is currently invading her time with a certain Latina. Santana tries to calm Brittany before it's too late but she's not quick enough to react before the taller woman is sneering at the intruder and throwing out a flurry of words.

"_Brooke_ was it? Are you going to answer me or am I going to have to punch the answer out of you. I'm not afraid to hit a girl every now and again, especially if their plans are to hurt Santana or myself." Brittany says, eyeing the other brunette in the doorway that now stands far too close to Santana for her liking. Brittany takes a step to Santana and without even looking for her hand, reaches out and brushes her fingers against a tan palm. Almost automatically, Santana's hand twists around and slips into Brittany's.

Brooke eyes the clasped hands for a second before questioningly turning her eyes to Santana who merely blinks her eyes in a silent response to Brooke as well as towards the entire situation. Brooke chuckles and turns her focus back to Brittany.

"Easy Tiger, I swear I come in peace and if you drop your weapons and let me in, I'd be happy to explain to you just why that is. Oh and I'm not here for your girl," She starts to say, her voice a raspy husk. Brittany's eyes narrow at the statement, and seeming ambiguity of it. To her right, Santana squeezes her hand in a sort of calming method.

"It's okay Brittany, she's not here for you either," Santana informs the taller woman whose blue eyes snap to her as an almost automatic reflex. Her brow furrows and her lips pull into a minor frown of uncertainty.

She has no idea what's going on.

Santana turns back to Brooke, looking over and past her shoulder for a second before refocusing her attention on the woman, "How about you do come in. It'll be safer, and far easier to explain everything."

Brooke simply nods, but waits until Brittany finally moves to the side before crossing the threshold into Santana's house.

#################

"So, you're telling me that you, all five foot two of you, pretty little girl next door is an undercover agent for the fucking Drug Enforcement Administration? What the hell is going on?"

To say that Brittany is currently irate would be a serious understatement.

"I'm five foot four, thank you very much. And yes, that's precisely what I'm telling you. I normally work out of the Los Angeles office, but when some colleagues of mine from out in Miami heard Jesse St. James was heading towards Vegas, my team was put on assignment to bring him down."

Brittany's still a little jaw dropped, as in 'What the actual fuck is going on' jaw dropped.

"So, again I'm just trying to get things straight. You're after Jesse St. James, who you're claiming is a drug lord, not Jesse St. James the car thief/extortionist?"

Brooke nods her head, her eyes flicking over to Santana for a moment, "That's right. We have no interest in taking St. James down for Grand Theft Auto, which is why I've enlisted Santana's help in the matter. We have no intention of touching anything that you or your crews are involved in, unless it pertains to drugs."

Brittany's eyes glance over to Santana, "How long has she enlisted your help?"

"She only came to me the last time I was at Jesse's. We've been trying to get together to discuss things further without Jesse and his crew breathing down our necks but there hasn't been much opportunity for that."

It's a natural skepticism that keeps Brittany from fully believing anything she's hearing. It'd be a nice concept to believe that Brooke is in fact one of the good guys, and she's not here to hurt but actually may help, but there are warning bells going off in Brittany's head and things still don't sit right. She takes a step towards Santana and turns to face Brooke again.

"Let's say I don't believe you and you're actually a spy for Jesse's crew trying to fuck things up. That would be putting Santana and myself and crew in a lot of danger, and I don't like when people threaten my livelihood."

Brooke nods, a look of understanding crossing her face, "Okay I get that. I come out of nowhere and make pretty bold statements. Here, I can prove it to you though." She says and pulls back one side of her leather jacket to reach for something at her hip. Brittany's eyes instead zone in on the polymer holster strapped and dangling from the side of Brooke's chest, and the semi-automatic pistol that appears to be resting in it.

Brittany is quick to step protectively in front of Santana, reaching behind her to wrap one arm around the woman's waist and pull her tight to her back as she raises her other hand out in front of her defensively.

"What the hell is that?"

It takes a moment for Brooke to realize Brittany's eyes are focused intently on her gun.

"Oh hey hey no, that's just my gun."

"Why the hell would you have a gun?"

"I told you, I'm a DEA agent. Here," She begins to say and reaches at her hip again, Brittany shifts uncomfortably, trying her best to shield Santana further behind her body. Brooke pulls out a wallet flap looking thing and holds it up to Brittany, "My credentials."

Brittany eyes the picture and, as far as she's concerned, gibberish that's scrolled across it in official and impressive looking font, and then glances behind her to Santana.

"Did you know about this?"

Santana shakes her head, "I had no idea she was an agent. When Brooke approached me shortly after I 'joined' Jesse's crew, she said she'd been around a while and could tell when people weren't really somewhere they were supposed to be or wanting to be. I freaked out at first thinking she was going to blow my cover but she convinced me she was one of the good guys.

We didn't get much time to talk the first couple times I was around the crew, Jesse was putting so many things in my head about what he expected me to accomplish to earn my keep in the crew but when we got the chance we met up and decided to arrange sometime we could met up again and talk outside of Jesse's watchful eye. It kind of slipped my mind that she'd planned to show up here today." Santana's eyes glance up at Brittany and notice a hint of betrayal lingering in those bright blues. She steps forward.

"I was going to tell you, actually I was going to ask you to meet her with me…"

"She was," Brooke confirms.

"And then we kind of got caught up in everything."

Brittany takes in the information very thoughtfully. She studies Santana for a moment throwing a contemplative glance in Brooke's direction every now and again. Finally her shoulders uncoil and her defenses go down.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here Santana, since I didn't do that the first time. But," Brittany tells the tanner woman before turning to Brooke, "You're going to have to start talking."

Santana releases a relieved sigh and steps towards Brittany, turning her body to mimic the taller woman's posture and face the DEA agent. As Brooke begins her explanation, Santana feels Brittany's long fingers brush across her own that dangle at her side and again doesn't hesitate to grasp onto Brittany's hand, no looking, no second thoughts, no worries.

It's about time they started trusting each other.

################

As Brittany strides back into her shop, having just come back with Santana from a long and informative engagement with DEA Agent Brooke Davis, she immediately spots her best friend sitting peacefully in the corner of her shop and decides that now is the best time to pick that bone.

"You and me Fabray, we've got a beef."

For the second time in 24 hours, Quinn finds herself being verbally harassed for reasons quite unknown, and being interrupted when she's right in the middle of reading her book. Brittany takes a step towards the table, her hands fit firmly and menacingly on her hips.

"You need to stop putting Santana down, she's not our enemy."

Quinn folds her hands primly together on the top of the table and sits up proper straight.

"I don't really have a problem with her Brittany so much as I have a problem with her keeping things from us, but especially from you."

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore because we've had the time to discuss a few things, and when we get the chance I plan on telling her more things. A lot of things. Probably everything."

Quinn's eyebrow quirks in suspicion, "Oh, you're planning on telling her everything huh?"

Brittany bites her lip in her biggest tell and murmurs out a weak, "Pshh, yeah."

"So you're going to tell her that you don't actually know if your mom's dead, just that you haven't seen her for ages and despite the fact that it basically implies she's abandoned you, given that she's still alive, you still covet her affection like a little bright eyed girl. And because of this, though I doubt she hasn't already figured it out, you resort to sex and silence to try and push away your problems. Are you going to tell her that Brittany?"

Brittany frowns, "Geeze Quinn, Mike was right. You really can be a straight up bitch when you want to."

"Mike doesn't get any say in this!" Quinn exclaims in return, her eyes narrowing and her face flushing bright pink. It would be comical if Brittany hadn't just been so rudely offended. They stare off with each other, or glare off rather, for the better part of five minutes before Brittany finally caves, huffing in defeat and tossing her arms in the air.

"Fine, I didn't tell her that because I don't really think it's of much importance right now. We just got back on good graces, I don't want to freak her out by letting her know I essentially have abandonment issues, plus I was a royal A bitch to her and defaulted to bad behavior when I got scared."

"Another reason you should actually be telling her everything. I mean come on Brittany, we both know those aren't the only issues you have."

"Oh screw you Quinn, or better yet just get someone to screw you and get that self-righteous stick out of your ass."

"Brittany this isn't a fucking joke. I may have had my ups and downs concerning Santana, but I'm still trying to get a handle on her. You're my best friend though, which means you come first."

"I don't need your pity Quinn, and I can handle shit on my own."

"I've seen you 'handle shit' on your own Brittany, you and I both know that never turns out well. For anyone."

There's a few brief moments of silence, a tense air hanging between the two friends that radiates in a heated shockwave, their glares bore into one another with such desperation one would think that they were trying to control the outcome of the other with only the power of their minds. But real life doesn't work that way.

Quinn caves first this time, unclasping her hand and raising it to run through her blonde locks. Despite Brittany's previous insults, and stubborn as a bull attitude, she's mildly impressed with her friends words. She cracks a small smile in Brittany's direction, years of arguing with her best friend has shown that the easiest way to get Brittany to calm down is to appeal towards her amiable side, or what little she has of one.

Of course, it wouldn't be a Quinn Fabray retort without a little dig of her own, "Self-righteous? Since when do you know what that means?"

Brittany catches on to the attitude change and shrugs; "Santana called me it the other day so I looked it up on Wikipedia."

With a laugh from Quinn all the tension is broken. She sends a wider lopsided smile in Brittany's direction.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too Q, that was a dick move on my part bringing up Mike and stuff."

"Well admittedly it's been a while and you know how cranky I can get."

"And we're traveling into TMI territory. Let's just keep it at we're both sorry and move on?"

Quinn nods towards Brittany, twenty years of solid friendship and constantly being surrounded by the other person allows you to get over even the worst of things, fast.

"Works for me." She says as she fixes her hands on her hips. She gives the atmosphere a few seconds to settle down before she abruptly changes the subject, it's her style so she's not expecting it to faze Brittany by it, "So what are you planning on doing?"

Brittany draws her bottom lip between her teeth and her forefinger and thumb in a pinching motion to the point of her chin. Quinn recognizes that Brittany is contemplating, so she lets the taller girl stew her thoughts around.

After what seems like several hours, but is in fact only a few minutes, a coy smirk pulls across Brittany's face and her eyes light up. She's got a plan.

"When I was at Santana's we had a little bit of an unexpected guest drop by."

Quinn's eyes go wide in alarm, but Brittany shakes her off, "No problems Q, just someone I hadn't anticipated seeing. But the good news is that this person is actually on our side. They are an undercover informant in Jesse's crew that has apparently made Santana out as one too, again nothing to be alarmed about, I was suspicious at first but they turned out to be pretty persuasive, and informative.

Anyway, the moral of this whole long winded story is that this person is also looking for a way to take Jesse St. James down, and they happen to have a particular set of knowledge on him, his crew and his vast expanse of wrong doings to the point that if we all play our cards right he'll be gone for good, and we'll still get the money."

This seems to capture Quinn's attention, most undeniably. She tilts her hip to the side and raises her chin just enough to signify to Brittany that she's listening, and quite interested. Brittany grins wickedly.

"Basically, Jesse's got a side biz, which is probably more than likely his main biz but he's having a little trouble expanding in the area because, as you know, we divide the Vegas turf with the Evans crew."

"Brittany will you just get to the point, I know you love the whole espionage, undercover badass approach but I'm not getting any younger."

Brittany rolls her eyes at Quinn's impatience, as much as her interruption.

"You're not getting any nicer either."

That earns her another heated glare. Brittany chuckles a little, "St. James runs drugs Quinn."

This surely shuts Quinn up.

"That's right, I didn't think you'd have much to say about that. Granted I'm not completely shocked by the announcement, but at the same time it just makes me loathe the prick even more. And it scares me how much more danger Santana could potentially be in."

"Well yeah, drug running, especially big city scale operations, that's no little man behind the wheel."

Brittany nods her agreement, "Right, it's boss man status. Which is why it's very important for us all to work together."

Even though Quinn's brow is furrowed in deep thought, and she looks somewhere between having to go to the bathroom and seeking medical need, she still manages to acknowledge Brittany for her continuation of the situation.

"Basically the informant told us that they could convince Jesse to run a certain game within the city, as a way to garner a lot more business, as well as sanction a type of loyalty that he is desperately in need of but seriously lacking. They think that if we enter this little game, and come out on top we'll be that much closer to Jesse and the potential to take him down."

"Okay while that sounds like a mildly absurd proposition, it also seems to be one of the most established ideas I've heard in a while. Considering we already have two people on the inside, I can see your reasoning. The only question I have now, however, is how you propose to get our crew in the mix. Jesse St. James despises you, as evidenced by the way he carelessly and literally tossed you out of his club not too long ago. So tell me Brittany, what exactly are you thinking here?"

That up to no good smile that Quinn's seen one too many times before Brittany inadvertently gets into trouble crosses her best friends face.

"He may admittedly hold a rather annoying disapproval of me, but I think that considering the other crews we know exist in the area, after he sees our crew put into action, and willing to work with him, he might just change his mind."

"Oh, I see where you're going with this." Quinn says with a nod, finally catching onto Brittany's sometimes deceptively genius ramblings. "So you're suggesting that when Jesse sends the words out to the crews in the area it's going to be a 'may the best crew' win kind of deal."

"Exactly, he's not going to care if the crew that wins is one of his biggest adversary's. He really has no room to argue with success. Besides, if it comes to it, all we need to do is remind him that this is our turf in the first place. You and I both know that the only reason I didn't do that the first time I was around that asshole was to preserve Santana's cover, and protect her from getting hurt, which worked because we got not only one person, but two people on the inside."

Quinn's is nodding concurrently with Brittany's words, "You're right Brittany. And I think your plan has a lot of potential. I guess the only thing I'm curious about is whether or not you have any idea what this informant might suggest as a 'game' for Jesse to play."

A smile covers Brittany's face, "I thought you'd never ask. Obviously there are only so many things in Vegas that would prove useful in illegal operations. One of them being boosting high-end cars. In Jesse's case, the informant has suggested that they could persuade him to use these boosted cars as a means to smuggle and transport his drugs across the nation, and across borders if needed. All he needs is someone with skill enough to properly boost them, and turn them into ghosts with new identities."

"And you're okay with going up against not only Jesse's crew but also the other crews in the area?"

"I'm not worried about anyone else besting us, and I figure the best way to keep Santana safe would be to be that much closer to her and actually in Jesse's semi good graces."

There's a moment of consideration from Quinn's side before her hazel eyes flash back to Brittany. Her face is steeled in business mode and if Brittany didn't already know what the look Quinn is flashing her meant, she'd be likely to piss herself from how scary it is. If she, of course, was any sort of non-badass that couldn't handle such a thing.

"Alright, I'm in for the plan. Of course it'd be nice to hear more from Santana if she knows anything else and you'll definitely have to run everything by the crew. You know Hunter's not going to go for it."

Brittany's face twists in disgust, "Hunter's a prick I care nothing more about so he can get his own damn life and stop trying to live vicariously through me. As far as Santana and explaining things to the crew, that can be arranged."

A thin line pulls across Quinn's otherwise pristinely refined face, her fastidious attitude breaking for one second long enough to display some sense of compassion.

"Okay Brittany."

The bright blue of Brittany's eyes turn to glance fully in Quinn's direction, analyzing the extent of her friend's sincerity. They've always been able to read each other, and they probably always will be able to.

Brittany's mouth quirks at the corner, "You should apologize to her you know."

Quinn brief reprieve from the world of frowning disappears in an instant the second Brittany's words leave her mouth. But Quinn waits until Brittany turns her back and walks over to her newly acquired Boss, ducking down into the engine compartment, before she speaks up again.

"You really want me to apologize to your girlfriend?"

There's a clank and a 'Fucking shit!' muttered from the engine compartment where Brittany's head is located and then a streak of blonde hair pops up and blue eyes flash in Quinn's direction. There's a certain fire in Brittany's eyes that suggests perhaps Quinn crossed the line this time.

Brittany takes a step towards her friend, wiping her hands on an old grease rag, "Okay first of all, ha-ha, she's not my girlfriend," Quinn's eyebrow quirks at Brittany's unconvincing tone, "And besides, I think it's only fair." Brittany then says with a shrug as if trying to brush the whole thing off, "I'm pretty sure you gave her whiplash with the way your attitude towards her turned around so fast."

Quinn's eyebrow rises so quickly you'd think it attached to something, "Oh we're touching on that subject now? Then how are you exempt?"

Brittany shoots the blonde her own warning look, "I never said I was, but I'm going to make it up to her in other ways. Ways that I definitely don't want you attempting to complete. Probably sometime in the next hour before the crews meet up."

Quinn scrunches up her nose in mild disgust, "Okay, now who's touching on TMI?"

Brittany shrugs again, "Touché Fabray, but you should still apologize."

"Would it make you happy?"

"Delightfully so."

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes and another huff Quinn replies with, "Fine if it pleases you so much."

"There's my bestie. Thanks Q."

Quinn just waves her off with a grumbled 'yeah, yeah' as she decides her best course of action is to leave the garage. She gathers her book and heads for the exit. She's just about there when suddenly Brittany calls out behind her.

"Oh hey Quinn?" When she has the other woman's attention, Brittany puts on her most serious no bullshit face, "Call the others for a meeting at four, that should give me enough time to talk with Santana. Tell them there's a new plan to discuss and also a few other things I want to touch on."

Quinn merely nods, she's not about to argue with Brittany on this, she knows it won't do her any good.

###############

"I could get used to this you know." Brittany drawls as she watches Santana, or rather the lower half of Santana's body, sticking out from halfway under her Nissan, back flat on a creeper just outside the garage door of the shop. There's a clanking and a muttered string of Spanish curse words that make Brittany chuckle, she thinks it's sexy that she and Santana both get so invested in their work that the littlest of distractions can cause them minor injuries and bring forth cussing.

Besides that, Santana speaking Spanish is always a bonus as far as Brittany's concerned.

Kneeling down to the smooth concrete, Brittany reaches out and gently places her hand on Santana's knee dragging the woman out from under the car on her rolling workstation. She can't fight the enormous grin that spreads across her lips when Santana's face appears and there are grease smudge stains across her cheek and temple. Santana's eyes soften almost the second they connect with Brittany's.

"Hey, are you all done talking to Quinn?"

Brittany nods, "Yeah, now I was thinking that we could talk."

"I'd like that."

There's a sense of familiarity between the two women as Brittany stands up straight and stretches her hand out for Santana to take, pulling the smaller girl safely to her feet. She takes one more second to admire how beautiful the woman looks, reaching out to brush a stray hair out of those brown orbs before smiling and tossing her head in the opposite direction.

"Are you okay talking in my condo?"

Santana nods and somehow without any real thought or direction, their hands slide down and brush together before their fingers tangle in a firm clasp. Brittany turns to walk in the direction of her condo.

"Wait!" Santana's words halt her and she turns to see what the problem might be. She's not expecting Santana to grasp a wad of her shirt and tug their mouths together but that's exactly what does occur. Brittany quickly falls into the kiss, Santana's bottom lip fit nicely between her own, a soft tongue gliding across her top lip. She opens her mouth and tilts in further, deepening the kiss as she feels Santana's arms wrap around her neck and her own hands fall to frame slim hips.

They break the kiss several moments later and Brittany's eyes remain closed as she rests her forehead against Santana's.

"Wow."

Santana's breath comes in warm pants across Brittany's chin, "Yeah," she murmurs, "I had to do that to get that out of my system, clear my head a little you know?"

Brittany chuckles softly at Santana's words, "Hey, anytime you need to clear your head I'm here okay?" She jokes and earns a light hit to her shoulder.

"Ow woman! Damn."

"Oh stop, I needed to do that so that we wouldn't be tempted to do so during our talk, because you do realize that I'm going to be talking about how things like that can't just happen anymore right?"

Brittany sighs, but slowly she nods her head and her eyes regard Santana carefully, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting it to go something like that." Her tone is sad and reflects how deeply sorry she is about how certain things have gone down recently.

"I just need you to understand Brittany that this isn't a game or a fling or anything like that for me. I was serious when I said I care about you, that I…that I'm falling for you and I want to give you everything I can and everything I am, but I need to know you're serious about stuff and that you see me as more than just a simple fuck. I admit we both got ourselves into this, but I'm taking control over my feelings and I need to know where you stand."

"I completely understand Santana, and I want to prove to you that us, or the potential we could be, and you mean more to me than anything else. So I'm willing to talk, wait or whatever you need."

Santana studies Brittany and her body language for a second and realizes she's being genuine. She smiles and tilts up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Brittany's cheek.

"Okay then, I think we can reach some sort of common ground then."

With every intent of turning and walking back to Brittany's condo to further discuss things, Brittany and Santana, while standing hand and hand, are suddenly approached by a huffing and sputtering Rory. The boy seriously looks as though he's just run five miles.

"We have a situation boss," Rory starts to inform Brittany and bends at his waist to catch his breath while hooking his thumb over his shoulder at a quickly approaching figure, "I told him he couldn't be here, but he wouldn't listen."

Brittany glances up to examine who would dare trespass on her turf with everything going on right now and her jaw locks at the sight and person striding towards her. Big old lazy smirk plastered across his face. Suddenly, Brittany's calm façade is gone and she's gripping Santana's hand in that specific form of possessiveness that she has before.

"Oh hell no," Brittany exclaims, jabbing her free finger in the direction of the intruder, "This is _not_ happening."

* * *

**Okay I realize that this chapter was mostly a filler, but every single part of this chapter is going to help lead up to the end, plus it brings Brittany and Santana that much closer. So I hoped you enjoyed it. Sorry I had to leave you with another 'Who is that?' moment, but the chapter's kind of work out better that way. Any guesses whom it may be? I'll give you a hint, you haven't heard of them in my story before this chapter. Alright, I'll see you all Friday (probably!)**

**And look for an update to It Was Only Ever You tomorrow for a Smutty Saturday session. It's really good ;) **


	19. Two Hands on the Handlebars

**Chapter 19: Two Hands on the Handlebars **

"Get the fuck out of Dodge, Evans, before I kick you the hell out. And my way ain't as pretty as I am." Brittany's tone is anything but cordial or welcoming when she glares at the floppy blonde haired, green eyed slim surfer looking guy that walks towards her and Santana's current position.

A shit-eating grin, like he owns the fucking world, is still spread across the guy's face. Brittany watches with clenched teeth as the his eyes momentarily divert to Santana and linger quite a bit longer than Brittany cares to even think about even being slightly okay with. She takes a step in front of the shorter girl, her muscles still tense and ready for any kind of fight she's hoping might go down.

Anything to wipe that smug ass smirk off her rival's fish lipped face.

"Pleasure to see you as well, Pierce." The guy greets with an incline of his head as he comes within a few feet of Brittany and Santana.

"That's far enough, Samuel, now tell me what the hell you're doing on my turf."

"It's Paul actually," the guy speaks up, his eyes flicker over Brittany's shoulder to Santana once again, as his arms fold across his chest.

Brittany's lip turns up in confusion, "What the fuck?"

"I go by Paul now. Sammy just doesn't sound like very much of a tough name."

At this announcement, that the pain in her ass known to the world as Samuel Paul Evans III, is suddenly trying to be 'more tough', Brittany rolls her eyes, "Yeah I think you're gonna need more than a name change to fix that."

Hearing Santana snicker quietly behind her gives Brittany more satisfaction than she ever thought possible.

Feeling her push up against Brittany's back, well that's a whole other set of reactions that make Brittany incapable of properly thinking. In the very best of ways.

"I didn't come here to make small talk with you about my name," Sam, or Paul rather, starts to say but Brittany is quick to interrupt.

"Then why the hell are you still talking about it? I've been asking you for ten minutes about what exactly the fuck you're doing here, so spit it out already."

Brittany feels the palm of Santana's hand glide across the small of her back until it rests inconspicuously on the curve of her hip. The touch sends a blaze through Brittany's body, and she has to take a momentary breather before she can properly function again.

"I'm here about the rumored job that's circulating around Vegas, and if you don't know what I'm talking about, well you ain't as smart as you claim to be."

Before Brittany can formulate a reply, it's Santana that is speaking up over her shoulder in bolstered defense, "I'd watch what comes out of those ridiculously disproportioned lips, Trouty, especially when it pertains to your erroneous judgment of Brittany's intellect. She's one of the most brilliant people I've ever met, and I don't even know you but I can tell she's got extensive amounts of genius over your pea sized side show brainpower."

Brittany's surprised her jaw doesn't drop at Santana's words. Paul on the other hand, simply continues to smirk through the entire ordeal.

"Well I'll be damned Pierce, you got yourself quite the little spitfire of an addition to your crew. She's very easy on the eyes I must say."

"You keep your damn eyes off of Santana, so she's not tainted by your look Evans. And while you're at it, get the hell off my concrete and out of my sight."

Paul Evans merely flashes his impish smirk, "Last time I checked, it was a free country and admiring pretty little things never hurt anyone." He says, his eyes lingering towards Santana again, who Brittany moves to shield ever more so before Paul continues, "And now that I think about it, isn't this you _and_ your brother Hunter's 'turf' over here? If I've got business around here, I'm going to get the full scale. You can't expect to just send me off without giving me the chance to speak to the Pierce crew as a whole."

"You want to watch me Evans? Just fucking try me. And I swear you won't ever be able to look at any woman again if you don't stop your eyes from their creepy lingering anywhere near Santana. You know my word is gold, and you also know I can very well kick your ass."

There's a look of anger followed by contempt that flashes in Paul's green eyes and his jaw tenses at the insult. He's hard pressed to deny the truth to Brittany's words, she has, after all, bested him at more than one game in their lifetimes. But he's not about to mention anything of the sort where he stands and instead chooses to change the subject, like any good coward would.

"I came to talk a deal Brittany. Crew to crew, which means I'm not leaving until I get the proper meeting with you and Hunter."

Brittany would absolutely love to give this guy the proper meeting, one that involves her fist in his cheesy ass smirking face. Knock some sense into him, ya know? But she realizes there's not much she can do aside from allowing Paul to speak with her and Hunter as he's requested. It's not like she can go to the cops and tell them that another boosting crewmembers leader is currently trespassing on her property, because that would just be a big fucking disaster waiting to happen.

With a heavy sigh, but no amount of admitted defeat reflecting in her posture or attitude, Brittany gives one more prolonged glance in Paul's direction before she consents, undeniably still reluctantly, to his request.

"Fine, you can have five minutes with us. Not a fucking second more," Brittany says, her tone conveying the sincerity of her subtle threat. She jabs her finger at him a little more pointedly, "And keep your damn eyes to yourself."

After seeming to accept Brittany's terms with a nod of his head, Paul allows Brittany and Santana to lead the way towards the main building and Hunter's 'office', he doesn't fail to notice the way Brittany possessively wraps her arm around the shorter girl's waist and throws a look over her shoulder that silently implies, with the utmost seriousness in the world, 'I'm watching you'. Paul may get into trouble every now and again, and he might not be considered the sharpest tool in the shed but as much as he would never admit it out loud, he's not a fool to mess with Brittany Pierce.

Particularly in the matter of a woman because he'll right as rain fail on all aspects of that. He resolves to settle the matter elsewhere, where perhaps he will be supplied a faired chance in the matter.

Perhaps on the streets, where they were both born and raised to race.

##################

Although Brittany's possessive attitude in regards to Santana does not disappear on their trek to Hunter's office, it does become a little less strict possessive and a little more kind attention. In other words, she shifts from having her arm wrapped tightly around Santana's waist, to gripping the shorter girl's hand, though still firmly, but now more calmly in her hand.

The fact that Santana allows it, and even goes as far as to intertwine their fingers and give Brittany's hand a subtle squeeze, means all the difference to Brittany. And it certainly calms her inner, and somewhat outer, rage.

When she reaches the door to Hunter's office, Brittany doesn't make any attempt to knock on the door, instead she simply barges right in like she doesn't give a damn.

Because, well, she doesn't.

"Hunter, there's an asshole here that is persistently requesting the audience of the two of us for reasons still unknown to myself, and despite the fact that I loathe the very thought of even standing in a room with you right now, he won't fucking leave until I do so let's just get this shit over with." Brittany says upon entrance to the office in absolute lieu of any kind of greeting. Not that Hunter deserves it in the least.

She's expecting some kind of pretentious overbearing remark to come out of Hunter's lips, she's not expecting to see him calmly spin around in his swivel chair and administer her an incline of his head in some form of uncommunicated agreement to her spiel. It's creepy, out of character and completely nerve wracking.

"Ahh Samuel Evans, so nice to see a fellow crew leader around these parts. Well then, have a seat and tell me what brings you here." Hunter addresses the other man in the room without so much as a glance or hint of acknowledgement towards Santana. Not that Brittany, or even Santana, was expecting anything of the sort. Hunter's avoided the feisty woman since she gave his nose a new shape; crooked slightly to the left.

Brittany finds it's one of Hunter's most endearing features, possibly the only one. And it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that she imagines how hot Santana must have looked when her fist connected with Hunter's face. Brittany shivers a little, that thought still gives her the really good chills.

"Hunter Pierce, always nice to be in the area of such an accommodating guest, and please call me Paul. Samuel was my father."

"As you wish, Paul. What can I do for you today then?"

Brittany's about to interject into the massive mockery that's occurring before her eyes when she feels Santana tug on her hand by her side. She turns her eyes and finds careful brown ones looking back. Santana tilts up on her tiptoes and Brittany simultaneously leans down, shuddering slightly when warm lips brush across the shell of her ear.

"You know anything he says isn't going to matter. But the sooner he speaks, the sooner he can get his ass out of here and the sooner we can get down to our own discussing business."

A smile forms on Brittany's lips as Santana whispers those words quietly into her ear. She has to admit, the woman's got a good point. She'd much rather get all of this out of the way and move onto properly fixing things with Santana, as soon as possible. Brittany gives Santana a subtle nod of agreement and her ears refocus to the other, less important, conversation occurring within the room.

"Simple challenge than Hunter, all you have to do is accept."

Brittany's eyes go wide. Wait, challenge? What?

"What type of challenge?"

Two sets of deceitfully evil looking green eyes turn and focus on Brittany.

"A streetbike racing challenge, as I just mentioned." Paul vaguely elaborates. Brittany's face morphs back from confusion into careless consideration. Her eyes flicker in Hunter's direction momentarily before glancing back in Paul's direction.

"A race between whom?"

That same smug smirk crosses the taller blonde's excessive lips, and his eyes don't hesitate to slide fleetingly up and down Santana's body, "Well four people. Two from your crew and two from mine. Winner takes all concerning the matter's that have cropped up around St. James' crew."

Suddenly the gears start churning in Brittany's brain, "You're proposing that we race, in a motorcycle race, to determine which of our respective crews gets to participate in the yet confirmed boosting challenge being dictated by that asshole St. James? How do you even know about that?"

"Please, Brittany, anyone who is anything in this town has heard about the great Jesse St. James' calling and proposed boosting challenge. Of course the only real competition in this city rests between you and I and for once I figured we could settle this before anything dirty happens in the big game. Wouldn't want to damage you or your ladies pretty face."

"Like I could trust you either way. You, and your crew, have always played dirty."

"It doesn't matter Brittany, I think Paul has offered us a fair proposition," Hunter suddenly cuts into the conversation, and Brittany's body flares with another surge of red-hot anger. She feels Santana's hand grip hers tighter once again, even going as far as to step closer to Brittany and wrap her other hand around Brittany's forearm as a sort of calming method. Brittany shouldn't be surprised at how quickly her body goes from raged to aroused at just the slightest touch from Santana.

But what can she say? The woman's got magic hands.

She grits her teeth as she glares in Hunter's direction, "Fine, if that's how you want to play this than that means that it's you and me who are nominated to participate in the race."

Brittany watches in satisfaction as Hunter's eyes go wide upon hearing his sister's words. He definitely wasn't expecting that. His mouth gaps open in some ill-advised attempt at squirming his way out of actually racing, but Brittany's already got that part covered.

"What H? You don't want to race?" She asks, the picture of innocence and care, so much the opposite of what she actually feels or thinks, but she's not letting Hunter get out of it this time, "I figured since you're always talking about how much this crew is a 'family' effort, you'd want to support that notion by stepping up to the plate and taking one for the team. After all, it wouldn't be fair if you asked one of our crewmembers to enter the race in your place. Not very good leadership and all."

Everyone in the room, except maybe the thick head Paul, is fully aware at what Brittany's playing at. Hunter's eyes narrow and she watches his throat bob in a subtle show of nervousness.

"You're right big sis, it would only be fair." He finally supplies, his brow beginning to perspire from the internal terror he is quite obviously going through. It brings a very happy smile to both Brittany and Santana's faces.

"Well good, it's settled than. Me and my crew will return in two hours and we can get this who thing done with." Paul speaks up from his corner causing Brittany to jerk slightly. She's not going to deny that she had already forgotten about the other individual in the room. She doesn't much care for him so it's not really a surprise.

She turns her head to look at him and gives one solid nod in his direction, "We'll be here. No chicken shit Evans, or I'll kick your ass."

"We'll see Pierce. We'll see," Paul calls back as he turns to exit the office, he glances one more time in Brittany's direction before his eyes skim over to Santana and give her an unpleasantly long lingering look, "See you there too, hot stuff."

If Paul hadn't fled the office the second those words left his over sized lips, Brittany would have damn well ripped them right off and attached them to somewhere else on his body that's wildly inappropriate.

She knows she's sure as hell going to kick his ass on the racetrack, and then afterwards probably kick his ass for real.

##################

It takes Santana eight minutes, four hand squeezes, numerous whispered words of reassurance and one unexpected and chaste kiss to Brittany's lips to get the other woman to calm herself down and return to the reality world where she's not plotting the death of one Samuel Paul Evans III.

"Hey, hey," Santana coos as she pulls back from the quick peck and tries to catch the attention of Brittany's rapidly moving light blue eyes. Finally, Brittany's glancing into brown depths and that serene calm is washing over her, "Brittany, he's gone. It's just you and me now."

The words do even more wonders to calm Brittany, and quickly she is smiling like an idiot and stepping into Santana to wrap her up in a sweet embrace, her arms easing around a slim waist and tugging the smaller woman in tightly to her body.

"I like the sound of that." Brittany murmurs into Santana's hair as she rests her chin on top of her head. Santana lets out a small sigh, the air releasing from her mouth breezing across Brittany's neck in a mixture of cooled warmth that sends tingly shivers down her spine.

They remain like that for a few more seconds until Santana feels Brittany's breathing ease and the staccato thumping of Brittany's heart modifies to a more leisurely pace. Santana's hands wander down to the jut of Brittany's hipbones, resting firm and solid before she lightly pushes on them in signal for Brittany to lean back some.

When their eyes meet again, it generates mega-watt smiles on both of their lips. Santana's lasts for a few seconds less than Brittany's, as she appears to shift into a more serious mode.

"Can we talk about what happened back there?" Brittany assumes that Santana is referencing, albeit vaguely, their time spent in the presence of Hunter and Paul. She's not entirely sure which part of that Santana intends on discussing. She gives a subtle nod and a miniscule shrug to convey her internal consensus to speak about whatever it is Santana wants.

Brittany watches with rapture as Santana's bottom lip is pulled between her teeth, where the other woman gnaws on it for a moment in her phase of deliberation.

Finally, she speaks.

"I know that I'm probably imposing beyond my boundaries, but I can't help but be a little incredulous about the nonchalant manner with which Hunter basically volunteered the both of you for a dangerous and ridiculous demonstration of bravado. And for what? So that you can win and then go on to do even more dangerous things?"

It takes a moment for all of Santana's extensive vocabulary words, at least in Brittany's terms, to register in her mind, but when they do, a grin stretches across her face. Santana in turn frowns at Brittany's look of elation. She wasn't expecting that kind of reaction.

"You're not supposed to be happy about potentially getting yourself killed."

Again, the smile stretches wider. Brittany leans back in close to Santana and brushes a few kisses across her cheek.

"I think it's really freaking adorable that you care so much."

Santana finds herself desperately wrapping her arms back around Brittany, and sinking further into her body.

"Of course I care Brittany. I care, _so much_, about you."

Brittany releases a heavy sigh, considerations weighing heavy on her heart and thoughts, "I figured some of those….feelings," She hesitates on the word, not quite sure of herself to divulge it or anything else that might go along with it, "Might have changed after some of the things that happened."

It's Santana turn to sigh, "I think you're too smart to have thought that." She remarks and Brittany's heart flips at the sincerity of the statement but they fall back into silence once more. Santana closes her eyes and relaxes in the comfort that is Brittany, as the taller girl relishes the feeling of having Santana so close, so absolutely in her arms.

After a few minutes Brittany takes a deep breath and clears her throat, "So where do we go from here, assuming you're still willing to give everything a chance."

Santana merely nods her head into the cushion of Brittany's chest, "Yeah, I meant what I said." She begins to say, referring to their brief discussion that was so rudely interrupted by the arrival of Paul Evans only an hour ago. Santana's fingers tighten their hold on the back of Brittany's shirt, "I don't need you to tell me everything, right away all at the same time, but," She pauses to lean back and glance up at Brittany, "I do need you to let me in if any of this is going to work."

Brittany studies the beauty before her with an intense almost trance like focus before she nods her head once, "I can do that. I mean…I want to do that. For you." She admits, her voice low but packed with sincerity. Santana nods, her brown eyes staring into the depths of Brittany's blue for an instant before she rocks up on the balls of her feet and presses her dry lips against the poised ones before her.

The kiss is brief, but it packs a punch like no other, and Brittany most certainly feels the hit from it. A hand travels up to cup Santana's cheek as the woman draws back from the kiss, a pale thumb strokes softly across smooth tan skin. Brittany tilts her head to place a kiss on the tip of Santana's nose, not even bothering to consider how incredibly intimate she's being right now.

Something about Santana makes up for any sort of strange feelings she's having. Without reservations, Brittany holds her closer wrapping the smaller woman up in a kind of warm hug that Brittany has neither given nor received in a very long time. The feeling of Santana hugging her back just as firmly chases any of her fears away.

Santana pulls back from the hug after a few seconds a regretful look on her face. She knows they both have other matters to attend to now, but is thankful at least at Brittany's agreement to eventually discuss things more fully.

"We should probably go get the bikes ready for you and Hunter to race. As much as I despise the thought of you actually getting on one in such a confrontational manner, I also have to hold my belief that you'll kick Paul's ass and I won't have to worry anymore."

Brittany chuckles at Santana's words stepping back to allow them the chance to walk from their seclusion and head towards the bike shop, she doesn't mind the way that Santana's hand automatically finds hers as they walk together.

Regardless of everything Brittany's ever thought or known about feelings and affection, what she has with Santana feels more right than anything she's ever known.

##################

It's a few hours later when Brittany, with Santana at her side, wheels her bike out of the shop and notices the sun hung low over the horizon, in preparation to set within the hour. It takes a few more minutes of waiting before a golden matte, as opposed to golden chrome, Audi a8 pulls up to the curb down the concrete driveway of Brittany's shop.

As Paul Evans steps out of the car, Brittany doesn't hesitate to roll her eyes.

"Should have known you'd show up in something like that. Such a nice car ruined by that tacky color." It's only loud enough for Paul to hear but he isn't afforded the time to respond because behind his car there's a vivid yellow Yamaha YZF-R1 and an alpine white Honda CBR1000 that pull up and park, both riders quickly dismount before they walk towards where Paul stands.

One of them removes their helmet and Brittany immediately recognizes him as Ryder Lynn, one of Paul's long time friends. The other one appears to refuse to remove his helmet, but Brittany can tell by his stance and the general position of his head that the asshole is staring in her direction.

Paul's appearance in front of Brittany draws her attention away from the mystery asshole.

"You still ready to do this?"

Brittany scoffs, "As if I'd be scared to challenge you in any way Evans. You know I'll always win."

The tense line of Paul's jaw does not go unmissed by Brittany, "Let's just get this over with. Where's your brother?"

"Half-brother, and he's probably getting his bike. Either way, the track's a half mile that way," Brittany points in a westward direction away from the shop where she knows a strip of street is currently abandoned and ready for prime racing usage, "I'll meet you there in five."

Paul gives a nod of agreement before turning back to his 'crew' and signaling them to follow him in his tacky ass car. When they drive out of sight, Brittany turns to face Santana, whom has been standing next to her the whole time.

"You ready to do this?"

Santana nods and takes Brittany's hand as the taller woman leads them to getting on the bike in preparation to head out.

A few seconds later, tucked safely behind Brittany, Santana holds on tightly to the woman's waist as she rides down the street a little ways towards where a small group of individuals have already formed. Santana is more than thankful that Brittany appears to be taking this particular race serious, and is wearing a helmet, an armor jacket, and a pair of gloves.

She was also kind enough to loan Santana the same set of gear for her to wear 'just to be safe'.

The crowd consisting of Brittany's crew, Santana's crew, the rest of the Evans crew and a few straggler's part and allow Brittany to maneuver the bike through them to the front of the swarm where Paul, the mysterious asshole, and Hunter all wait in a line for her arrival. Upon observing Hunter's bike, a Suzuki SV650 Sport in metallic black with red decals that is nowhere near a comparable bike to the superbike she's on, she shakes her head at his choice.

Flipping the visor up on her helmet, she turns to address the man, "Why did you get the 650 out? We have a GSR1000 Hunter, that's a better racing bike, especially for this situation."

Hunter merely shrugs his shoulders, "I'm more comfortable on this bike Brittany."

Brittany doesn't get the chance to call him an idiot because in the next second, Paul is speaking up.

"Track looks like your basic one-mile. I think that's fair." He begins and turns his focus from Hunter to Brittany, "Same conditions? Winner gets the St. James job?"

Brittany nods, "That's what we agreed on. First one of us to cross it is the winner. No best out of shit."

Paul nods in agreement, "Alright, let's get this show on the road." He says before turning back to prep his bike for the race. Brittany grits her teeth.

"I hate that saying." She mumbles under her breath before feeling a gentle squeeze around her waist. She looks over her shoulder to see Santana, her own helmet visor flipped up, smiling at her. Brittany can't help but smile back.

"After this you won't have to worry about this shit, and we can talk."

Brittany's eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as her elation fails to be held back. She nods, "I like the sound of that."

Santana takes a second to unclip and remove her helmet before she reaches out and delicately does the same to Brittany's, mesmerized by the way blonde locks cascade around Brittany's shoulders as the helmet is removed. She cups pale cheeks in her gloved hands and draws their lips together. Even though the angle is not ideal, Brittany still manages to push further into the kiss and slip her tongue past Santana's lips, stroking the curves of her teeth before nibbling softly on the plumpness of her bottom lip.

Santana releases a tiny whimpered moan at the action and pulls back from the kiss, her eyes a shade darker, and her skin slightly flushed. Brittany grins triumphantly at the reaction she has enticed from the gorgeous woman.

Santana's eyes close briefly before she exhales a content sigh, "Okay, you should probably race." She says, her eyes opening back up to focus intently on Brittany, her bottom lip gets pulled between her teeth as a nervous apprehension overcomes her demeanor, "Please, be careful." She whispers and it cracks a smile across Brittany's face.

She tilts in and pecks soft lips, "You know it." She promises and holds the bike steady as Santana smoothly climbs off and walks to take her place at the edge of the crowd as Brittany moves her bike up to the line with the others.

The racers all line up and are given the signal to start the race. A rush surges through Santana's body as she watches Brittany expertly and smoothly navigate her bike ahead of the other racers the first second off the line, and then that's when shit starts to go downhill.

It only takes a moment for Santana, and everyone else, to register that there are only three bikes racing down the street and when her eyes turn to the starting line, she finds Hunter not only propping the bike up on it's kickstand, but unhurriedly dismounting from the seat and removing his helmet as he grips at his side.

Santana's eyes flicker first down the street where she sees that Paul and his other racer are not only gaining on Brittany but also appearing to prepare to sandwich her between their bikes. A surge of panic now radiates through Santana's body.

"Hunter! What the hell are you doing? Brittany can't be out there all alone!" She exclaims, running over towards the man in question. She watches as a grimace covers his face and he clutches tighter at his left side.

Shaking his head, Hunter's green eyes meet Santana's brown, "There's something wrong with my side, I can't race."

"You can't just fucking leave her out there!"

Hunter's eyes flicker momentarily down the road to where Brittany is now fully sandwiched between the other two racers, their motives looking less and less cordial as the seconds tick by.

"She's a big girl." Is all Hunter says before he begins to limp away, all eyes darting between him and his sister who is currently in the middle of a dangerous game just down the street.

The panic continues to radiate through Santana's body, gripping every inch of her nervous system. She has half a mind to chase after Hunter and lay a left hook on him again, but something tells her it wouldn't be the best way to help Brittany right now, and that's her main concern.

Not even considering the consequences of her actions, Santana pulls her helmet over her head and runs over to the bike that's set in the middle of the street. She quickly swings her leg over the seat and straddles it, turning the ignition and starting up the engine in less than two seconds. Her eyes glance down the street to see Brittany trying to maintain control as Paul kicks out at her bike from one side and the mystery racer does the same from the other side. Santana shifts the bike into gear and pulls back on the throttle, squealing the tires a little as she urges the bike into action.

The grip she holds on the handlebars is rough and desperate, but Santana doesn't have time to be pensive about the fact she's easily out of her element, because the closer she gets to Brittany the more dangerous the entire situation is becoming. Luckily, Brittany's skills upon a streetbike are a lot more seasoned, and Santana watches the way the other woman easily transforms her outnumbered situation into one a little more manageable in her terms.

Brittany's bike jerks to a stop as both Paul and the mystery racer lean in to kick at her bike again. Her actions successful deter any kind of clashing between the three racers, but allows for Paul and the other racer to instantly take a lead. The maneuver also allows Santana to gain a lot of ground on the racer's as well, inching closer and closer until she's flying past Brittany a moment later and quickly moving on to catch up to Paul.

Brittany is suddenly snapped back into action as she watches Hunter's Suzuki fly by her and she quickly realizes that it's not Hunter at all that's racing the bike. Fear grips at her heart as she recognizes Santana's long brown locks flowing out from under her helmet, and she's quick to shift her bike back into gear and rev the engine back to life, launching the bike forward and after the rest of the racers.

Santana can tell that Paul wasn't anticipating anyone catching up to him as he cruises at a moderate speed towards the 'finish line' section, and is taken by surprise as another bike suddenly appears on his right. He glances over and notices the bike as the one Hunter Pierce was intending to race earlier, but definitely recognizes that it is not the Pierce man whom is riding it. With a quick flick of his head towards his right hand man racing on the other side of Santana, Paul pulls back on his throttle and quickly matches the Suzuki's pace.

Paul steers his bike closer to Santana as his crewmember does the same on the other side, his intentions being to either scare the woman into slowing her bike or knocking her out of the race by any means possible. He's not expecting Santana to have the capability to kick out with her right leg and solidly connect with the mystery rider, successfully catching him off guard and forcing his bike to jerk to the side where he looses a bit of control and has to slam on his breaks to avoid crashing. In the process of watching this occur, Paul gets a little too close with his bike and quickly finds the rear end of his bike, where the passenger pegs are found, getting caught on a similar area of Santana's bike.

Brittany watches from a few paces behind in horror as Paul and Santana's bikes suddenly become attached to one another and Paul's attempts of kicking at Santana's bike don't fix the issue. The two connected racers must realize there are bigger issues going on because they simultaneously glance up at their upcoming path and notice they are rapidly approaching a barrier median set in the middle of the street that divides the two lanes, which will be branching off in less than a minute.

Santana's eyes bulge in fear and she frantically tries to maintain control of her bike as Paul begins to kick more forcefully and desperately at the backend of the Suzuki in attempt to break them apart. In a last ditch effort, and remembering something that Brittany had mentioned to her back when she was teaching Santana how to ride, Santana pulls back on her front brake, allowing the momentum to shift the read end of the bike forward and to the left as Paul continues straight and at the last possible second before she'll loose control, Santana kicks out her left leg with all the power she possesses and connects with the area of the bike just behind Paul's calf, effectively disconnecting the bikes and sending Paul's into a swerve off to the right.

Not having the ability to regain control, Paul jams both of his brakes and forces the tires to lock as his bike looses balance and skids into a parked car off the side of the street. Santana only catches a glimpse of Paul being launched from the bike and tumbling across the hood of the car before she herself realizes her bike, though going much slower and now with an angled momentum, is quickly becoming unbalanced and she finds herself tilting to the right and pushing off from the bike to eject herself from the seat to skid across the pavement a little as the bike falls on its side and slides a few feet down the street in front of her.

A second later, Brittany's bike comes to a screeching stop next to the fallen Santana and she quickly cuts the engine and jumps from the bike, not even caring that it crashes to the ground, tumbling to Santana's side before ripping her helmet off and kneeling to reach out to the other woman.

"Holy fuck Santana!" Brittany exclaims as she watches for any movement from the woman lying on the ground, Santana shifts and lets out a tiny groan before her head lulls from its position on the ground to look in Brittany's direction. Slowly, Santana's hand comes up to flip her visor up.

"Fuck, that hurt." She mumbles as Brittany finds herself choking out an emotional cross between a sob of relief and a laugh. She slowly reaches out and takes the helmet carefully off of Santana's head before tossing it to the side and cradling the smaller woman carefully in her arms. When Santana manages to sit up a little she releases a long rush of air and leans further into Brittany just as the previously watching crowd catches up to them.

"Can you stand up?" Brittany asks Santana who nods and allows the taller woman to help her to her feet where Brittany wraps a strong arm around her waist to keep her standing. When Mike appears at Brittany's side she glances at him.

"Mike, here help Santana. I'm going to go kick that fucker's ass." Brittany says, her eyes glaring in the general direction of where Paul crashed just a few moments ago. Before Brittany even has the chance to pass Santana off to Mike, the shorter woman is gripping onto her jacket tightly and tugging her close.

"Wait, Britt, he's not worth it. Please."

The way Santana's tone is so soft and pleading keeps Brittany from moving. She glances down at Santana and sees her brown eyes shining with unshed tears. It tugs at her heartstrings and makes her stomach flip with emotions.

She relents, saying a simple "Okay." Before receiving a grateful and relieved smile from Santana in return.

"Take me home?"

The way Santana uses the word home causes a whole different set of emotions to flutter unexpectedly within Brittany's body, and warmth settles over her. More and more she can't deny any such tender request from Santana. And with a nod of silent relent to Santana, Brittany suddenly realizes something that should be surprising but in truth she probably saw coming a while ago.

She's already deeper than she ever thought possible and falling harder by the second.

* * *

**Okay then, there you have it. Lots more action planned and coming up for everyone! Thanks so much for your patience and continued interest in this story! It means so much to me that there are people out there that enjoy it, and take the time to tell me about it. Plus, got some streetbike racing Brittany **_**and **_**Santana. Thanks again so much to y'all! Another update will be on its way soon. **


	20. We Don't Need No Di-rections

**Chapter 20:** **We Don't Need No Di-rections**

"Can somebody please explain to me what the fuck just happened?"

Brittany's voice carries across the expanse of concrete just outside the Pierce shop. She's carrying Santana in her arms, bridal style, holding her close and being very careful not to jostle her or any unseen injuries she may have.

The rest of the crew filters in around Brittany. Mike and David drove the bikes back to the shop after trying to supply Brittany with a car to transport Santana back with. When she flat out refused to actually let go of the smaller woman and drive a car, Joe had to help her in the back of his pick up truck before he drove back.

"Evans and his crew got out of there pretty quickly," Mike begins to speak up as he comes in to Brittany's left, "Once we saw Santana go down, and you rushed to her side, we took our eyes off of him and when things calmed down and we went to find him, he, his bike, and his crew were long gone."

"And did you send anyone after him in the direction that we suspect he would have gone?"

Brittany is perceptive enough to catch the brief glance that Mike and Joe share between each other. Her eyes narrow and her brow creases, "Mike? Want to tell me what your little look means?" She tries to speak as calmly as possible, but if someone doesn't start saying something soon she's going to freak the fuck out on everyone.

Mike noticeably swallows a lump in his throat, "We uh…we were sending Puck and Lauren after them. They…they haven't come back yet, and apparently Finn Hudson is gone too." He speaks quietly, as if any raise of octave in his voice will provoke even more hostility from his boss.

Truthfully, it probably would.

As Brittany is about to reply to Mike, the sound of a Toyota Supra engine and the hum of Puck's Bugatti Veyron can be heard approaching the shop. Every single person standing around, including Brittany, turns their attention towards the approaching vehicles. Puck is first to step out of his car and run a hand through his messy unkempt strip of hair atop his head. Lauren steps from her own vehicle, not looking any more put together or pleased.

Santana shifts slightly in Brittany's arms, dozing in and out of consciousness, mostly due to utter exhaustion, Brittany assumes, but she also knows Santana is probably more injured or hurt than she's letting on. Which means she needs to get her lying down and examined as soon as possible.

"Puck, Lauren," She addresses the approaching crewmembers, "Follow me to my condo. I want Santana to be comfortable, but I want a full report on what the hell is going on. Mike, Quinn I'll need you're eyes, ears, and words as well."

Everyone addressed nods their consent and silently follow Brittany towards her condo. Brittany pauses before she gets too far away from the rest of her crew and glances over her shoulder.

"David, Joe, and Cooper," She calls aloud, all three men turning to hear what the tall, commanding woman has to say, "Keep an eye on things and get everything put away. Once this is all figured out I'll be calling a meeting to discuss what's going on, in the mean time just hold the fort down until we get back."

Nods of understanding are sent her way and Brittany turns to continue on towards her condo.

Once inside, Brittany takes the few steps over towards her bed and gently lies Santana down on top of it after removing the armor jacket wrapped around her tiny body. Santana hardly moves and makes no attempt to open her eyes as Brittany runs her fingers softly over her cheek and through her hair, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her temple.

"I'll be right back Santana." She whispers before she drapes a spare blanket over the woman and turns back to the four people waiting for her. Brittany inclines her head towards the kitchen, which will allow them the opportunity to speak with a little less apprehension or fear of waking or upsetting Santana.

Brittany reaches the kitchen and turns around to lean against the counter, folding her arms across her chest she glances at Puck, "Speak." She says, assuming he's at least got enough brains to figure out what she means by that.

He nods hesitantly once, his eyes flickering in Lauren's direction, "We headed off in the direction that the Evans guy and his crew took off in…" he starts to say.

"Go back to the beginning, when did you see them leave?"

Brittany's interruption doesn't seem to throw Puck off much, "Well we all saw him crash shortly after Santana and he became engaged on their bikes. When you rushed to Santana's side, Paul's crew rushed to his. It all happened so fast. One second you were helping Santana and he was being helped by his crew and the next thing we know, they're all gone. No trace of him, the crash, the bike. Nothing."

"But then you went after him?"

Puck nods, "Yeah, Mike and Quinn both started shouting that we couldn't let them just disappear," Brittany smiles slightly at those words, she's never officially appointed anyone as her second but Mike and Quinn never fail to grasp for it, and they both often prove very sufficient at doing so, "Lauren and I had both driven our cars out, and knowing we were probably the fastest out of who was left, we went after them."

"Do you know why the hell Finn Hudson is missing too?"

Puck's eyes go wide and he quickly shakes his head.

"We saw a car pass us when we were out there, but we had no idea it was Finn's." Lauren speaks up, explaining the situation as best as she's capable.

Brittany's forehead creases in confusion, "What the actual fuck is going on then?"

There's no attempt of answer to her question from anyone.

"That's not the worst part Brittany," Quinn does speak up though and Brittany's blazing blue eyes flicker in the direction of her best friend.

"What the hell else could be this bad? Santana's hurt, Finn is missing and we don't know why the hell that is, and the Evans crew is probably out for even more blood now."

The faint glance that occurs between Mike and Quinn following Brittany's words does, again, not go unnoticed by Brittany.

"Spit it out Fabray."

Quinn's eyes show remorse for what she's about to divulge, but the steely glare that Brittany is sending her way forces her to at least do her the favor of saying it.

"Brittany," She beings to say, every single person in the room hanging on her every breath, "Hunter's gone too."

#################

Every once and a while, there is a moment in everyone's lives where something is said or spoken or discovered and the individual can only reply with a simply 'oh'. In some cases they actually call it the 'oh' moment. Where you learn of something so shocking, so surprising, so deceitful that you're at a loss to respond in any way.

It's as if there is nothing else in your vocabulary that can successfully be applied to whatever you are trying to process or comprehend.

This is not one of those moments for Brittany, because it's an entirely different kind of moment.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Brittany's outburst is followed by the sudden realization of every little detail that has occurred in the last few hours for her, Santana, and their respective crews.

She remembers lining up for the race. It had been her, Hunter, Paul, and his mystery rider. The signal had been given and Brittany, naturally, raced to the lead only to find herself quickly becoming the filling to a motorcycle sandwich. Her riding talent and her penchant for evasion allowed her to divert herself from injury by slamming on her brakes and causing the two other racers to speed on ahead.

This is when Brittany remembers that it was Santana that flew by on the bike that Hunter had intended on racing, as she raced to catch up to Paul and the mystery rider.

"How the hell did Santana even get on a bike?" Brittany finds herself asking, to no one in particular, but addressing the general surrounding company hoping that one or more of them can supply some sort of answer. They'd better be able to tell her something.

"It all seemed to happen so quickly," Mike starts to speak up, Brittany's eyes focus on him, "One second you are all racing off, and we see Hunter propping his bike up and stepping off of it."

"I swear Santana was going to punch him in the face again, she was furious." Lauren adds from her corner of the kitchen.

"She yelled at Hunter but he didn't really respond. Just kind of kept walking away and then two beats later she was on the bike, starting it and racing off after you." Mike then continues.

Brittany glances in the direction of her bed where she sees Santana still resting peacefully, her heart flips a little at the general kindness of Santana's actions. Despite being in far more danger than Brittany would ever like to see Santana in again, she also may have very well prevented Brittany and others from getting hurt. She sure as hell ensured that Paul Evans and his crew would most likely not be coming around anymore.

If they want to keep their lives, they won't.

"He just took off though?" Brittany directs herself back to the conversation. She could give a shit about Hunter, but the fact that there's still an unknown confidential informant out there, as well as a potential spy, she's not likely to just forget about him. And she'd never put it past Hunter to do something so low, but at the same time it's kind of surprising that he really does give no fucks about family.

Maybe because he never really felt like family in the first place.

But really, that's far from being Brittany's problem. If Hunter wasn't such an asshole constantly trying to bring her down, Brittany might have thought a little more of him.

"He's gone Brittany," Quinn responds to her question, shrugging lightly, "His office is free of any and all files and documents he had been hosting. All of his essentials, clothes, money, and everything else is gone from his house, including the Maserati."

_Fuck,_ Brittany curses silently, "I knew he'd take the car if he ever got the chance. Ungrateful bastard." She sighs and glances around at her crew, "Look, it's a bitch that my half-ass brother left and shit, but to say I'm surprised would be a lie. The only thing I want to figure out now is what the fuck is going on. Does St. James know about anything? Are Evans and his crew going to run tail to him and blow all of our covers? Are Santana and Jake still going to be okay? Those are the kind of things I'm worrying about."

A collection of nods and murmurs greet Brittany as she finishes her speech, but then another thought occurs to her.

"Plus there's the situation of Hudson missing now. And none of us know what's going on there."

"But boss, we can't just assume that Finn was out to get us. He left Rachel here after all, and they seemed pretty close." Mike cuts in with a shrug.

"Yeah well, sometimes looks can be deceiving. Either way, we should be on the lookout for his or Hunter's return, if they decide to come back it's something I'm not just going to let slide," Brittany begins to say and there's a mumbled rasp of her name that filters in from her bed area. She glances over to see Santana shifting slightly around on her mattress.

She turns back to address her crew, "Look this is shit and I swear if I see Hunter I'll probably kill him myself just for putting Santana in so much danger but right now we need to keep our heads on. There are a couple other things I have to discuss with you guys and this whole missing crewmembers makes a difference. But I want everyone to be on the same page so, I think it's safe to assume that I'm in full control of this crew now."

"No one ever doubted you were the boss, boss. We've got your back Brittany." Mike says and everyone else gives a solid nod. She nods back and silently dismisses them. One by one they filter towards her door until its just Quinn that's standing next to her. Brittany watches as her friend's hazel eyes focus in on her.

"I hope you know I do trust her now." Quinn says, and Brittany quickly gathers that the shorter woman is referring to Santana.

Brittany quirks an eyebrow, "Well I'm glad that you finally feel that way, sucks she had to put her life in danger for it though."

Quinn's head hangs in shame, "I know and I'm sorry."

Brittany nods, "Yeah I know but it's not me you should be telling that to."

Hazel eyes flicker in the direction of Santana briefly before Quinn bites her lip and nods.

"I'll apologize Brittany I will."

"Good, me too. It's only fair," Brittany admits, a soft smile on her face, "Now wanna get out of here so that I can properly take care of her."

Quinn's nose crinkles up in disgust and she whacks Brittany on her arm, "Gross. Let's just stop sharing things like that."

"Whatever Quinn, you need to get over it," Brittany rolls her eyes in return, "But honestly, give us the night and some time in the morning we can all sit down and reevaluate things. Okay?"

"Sure thing boss, have a good night."

"You too Q. You too."

#################

A few minutes pass before Brittany arrives at Santana's bedside, holding a first aid kit and a warm washcloth in her hands. She's never been much of the caring; help patch 'em up type, but Santana's made her do things differently from the start anyway so it only makes since for this to be different.

Brittany scoots a chair up close to the bed and sets the kit down on the bedside table. She watches Santana's face carefully until tan eyelids flicker open and brown eyes settle upon her. A soft smile spreads across Santana's lips.

"Hi."

Brittany's heart skips at the tone and tenderness, "Hey." She says back, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. She gently reaches out and strokes the tips of her fingers across the exposed side of Santana's cheek, pushing a few loose strands of unruly dark hair behind her ear. As she goes to draw her hand back, Brittany finds Santana's hand quickly latching onto it.

She watches the smaller woman shuffle around a little until she's sitting up and resting her back against the headboard, Brittany's hand still held firmly in her own as it lays it upon her lap.

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you okay?"

The statements are spoken simultaneously, and both woman stop and give each other sheepish smiles.

Santana clears her throat and looks at Brittany, "Go ahead." She tells her and Brittany takes a deep breath before nodding.

"Are you okay?" She asks again, tentative and sweet. Santana smiles and nods slowly.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired." She admits and sinks back into the bed a little, "It was like I had an adrenaline rush out there when I got onto the bike and everything happened so quickly and then boom I'm exhausted."

"I was really scared," Brittany suddenly blurts out, quiet but still loud enough Santana catches it.

"I'm so sorry Brittany, I just saw that you could have been hurt and I couldn't let that happen.

Brittany smiles her way a little, "Are you kidding me? You don't have to apologize for that. It's one of the bravest, hottest, most awesome things anyone's ever done for me. Santana, you basically saved my life so please don't apologize for that." She says before her demeanor turns a little less excited, she sighs heavily and her clouded blue eyes flicker off to the area just past Santana's shoulder.

Santana reaches out and gently cups Brittany cheeks, imploring her to say something. Say anything. Letting her know she's there, and despite the fact she obviously can't go anywhere, she wouldn't even if she could.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Brittany whispers, and both she and Santana sit in shock at the sincere gentleness of the words. A heavy sigh escapes Brittany's lips, "I was scared that I wouldn't get to show you how much I _really_ care. How much I want to work all of this out, how much I-I…"

Brittany can't seem to continue. The words are stuck on the tip of her tongue. What words? She's not even entirely sure if she knows, but she doesn't get the chance to allow her brain to process and speak them because Santana's lips are capturing hers and leading her into an all emotions encompassing kiss.

It's like every single piece of Brittany's body is broken apart with that kiss only to be put back together a second later by those same tantalizing lips.

The kiss is short, but sweet and so much more powerful than Brittany could have ever imagined. Santana's chocolate brown eyes are practically glowing when she pulls back form the kiss and locks those damn orbs straight onto Brittany's. The breath gets sucked right out of her lungs, and even though she's sitting down, Brittany feels herself falling just a little bit more.

"Fuck Santana, your lips short circuit my brain." Brittany mumbles out, not entirely intentional but it earns her a sweet giggle and a soft peck to the tip of her nose so she can't really regret it.

"I know the feeling."

Brittany smiles back and lets out the heavy air that was weighing down her lungs. If she thinks about it, there's not really anything she should be ashamed of or hiding from Santana. After all, if she's the first and only girl to ever evoke this kind of central, physical, emotional reaction from Brittany, she should have the guts to talk to Santana about everything.

It's what she deserves.

She turns her focus back on Santana, her hand reaching out to softly brush stray strands of hair out of those beautiful eyes she falls into more and more everyday.

"Are you hurt?"

Santana returns Brittany's smile and leans in to place a soft kiss on pink lips, "No. A little sore but I can manage."

Brittany nods, gathering the underlining answer Santana is giving to her original masked question. Brittany stands from the bed and helps Santana out of it, inching a leather jacket over her shoulders in place of the armored one she removed earlier.

Softly taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze, Brittany leads Santana from her house in silence.

#################

Brittany could have gone to the Canyon with Santana. It's where she normally goes when things are shit, but something told her that she needed to take Santana somewhere more special. Somewhere that was calm and relaxing. She was compelled to make sure that Santana knew just how serious she was about everything. Which is how they find themselves at the edge of a desert bluff that overlooks the tranquil and clear Lake Mead.

Brittany brings the Boss to a stop and turns to glance at Santana, her heart flipping at the way the moonlight flickering off the lake's surface is giving a mysterious and stunning glow to Santana's features.

Her eyes seem to shine brighter, her skin radiates beauty, and her smile is soft and calming. Brittany leans across the console on her own violation and brushes her lips to Santana's cheek before she even realizes what she's doing. Almost immediately she feels heat creep up to her cheeks and when Santana's eyes glance at her in question, Brittany finds her own eyes averting their gaze as she clears her throat and tries to make the situation anything but awkward.

She doesn't see the way Santana smiles at her with that knowing glint in her eyes.

Brittany steps from the car and makes her way to the hood, waiting for Santana to join her before she tosses a spare blanket over the metal and climbs on top of it, reaching her hand out to offer to the shorter woman. Santana takes it and is gently hoisted up onto the hood where she watches Brittany recline onto her back, her hands tucked behind her head. She's quick to follow the woman's lead.

"It's beautiful out here."

Turning to face Santana, Brittany smiles at the other woman's words, "Yeah, it really is." She says, her eyes not gazing away from the woman's face, "I've only ever been up to this place a couple times…my dad was actually the one who brought me here first."

Santana turns to analyze Brittany's mood as she listens to her speak. She finds the other woman with her eyes closed, a serene almost unemotional softness displayed on the rest of her features. Brittany sighs and slowly opens her eyes to gaze at Santana.

"You don't have to tell me everything." Santana whispers and sincerity laces her voice. Brittany smiles sadly and twists to lie fully on her side, scooting as near as Santana as possible until their noses are touching and she can gently cup her cheek.

"Yeah I do, not because I have to," She begins to tell her, her thumb stroking the soft tan skin under her thumb, "But because I want to."

With that Brittany leans in and tenderly brushes her lips against Santana's, pulling back when the action has calmed the raging storm that exists in her chest. She takes another deep breath and without taking her eyes off of Santana, she tells the woman everything she's never told anyone else.

"My mother was always the greatest mystery to me. I don't know if she was ever really scared of my father getting in trouble for the things he did, or if she feared not being able to keep up with her own work. It took me a long time to realize that my mom never actually had a problem with the life she lived. She met my dad when she was a dancer at the Rhino. They were both in their late 20's, and he was a rising booster in the city." Brittany explains with a sad smile on her face. Santana reaches out and gently takes Brittany's hand in her own ghosting kisses across her knuckles in encouragement.

"I think I was five when I realized that the 'job' my father had wasn't your average everyday job. Of course at that point, him and my mom had already been on again, off again. He always had a problem with her career choice, and the fact that she'd never chose her family over it. It was kind of ironic, considering he'd never do the same thing either. Plus, he'd met Hunter's mom two years after they had me and even though I wouldn't know about him for several more years, my mom sure did.

On days she had to stay home to watch me because my dad was out boosting, those seemed like the most difficult days. I know that somewhere deep down, she loved me but I think she also resented me because apparently I just reminded her of how things used to be and the fact they'd never be the same for her. There'd be days where my dad wouldn't come home until the next afternoon, dirty and greasy, with alcohol on his breath. He'd be grinning out the window of some car I'd never seen before in my life, and my mom would always tense up the moment she saw him. The second he stepped out of the car, she'd go off to do whatever she could to stay away from the house. I guess I got used to it. It became commonplace."

Brittany is surprised by the touch of Santana's lips against hers as she whispers, "You shouldn't have had to get used to it Brittany."

She smiles sadly again in return, "Yeah we'll sometimes life isn't perfect. You know, you lost your parents too."

Santana's eyebrow wrinkles as her eyes sadden, "Yeah, but they were taken from me."

With a shrug Brittany sighs again, "Well sometimes it feels like mine were taken from me too. Things got worse with my mom but seemed better with my dad as I got older. He started letting me in on the cars side of the job. Fixing them, stripping them, painting them, driving them. He taught me everything he could, and as the days went by my mom got more and more frustrated with everything. I think the breaking point for her was when my dad finally brought Hunter around, his mom had died and he had nowhere else to go. I was 13."

A gentle squeeze to her hand lets Brittany know that Santana is still there for her.

"Even though Hunter was too young to actually drive, my dad would take us out on the easier boosts and show us the ropes. He had me driving cars by the time I was 14, and that's when my mom finally left. She never even said goodbye." Brittany chokes up on the words, angry tears starting to pool in her eyes, "I found something I was good at doing, that I enjoyed and my mom walked out on me without even so much as a fucking goodbye!" She says slamming the palm of her freehand down solidly on the blanket-covered hood.

"My dad never seemed to recover from that, he died a little over a year later. They said it was alcohol poisoning, and even if he'd be too damn stubborn to admit it if he was alive, I still think it's because of a broken heart. My mom left us, and then he left me." The last words cause Brittany to break, the floodgates release and tears streak her cheeks. To her ever tough girl credit, she never lets out more than a single whimper, but Santana wraps her arms around her and holds her close.

She coos softly to Brittany and presses light kisses against her forehead and cheeks as Brittany scoots closer and clutches her tightly in return.

"I'm not going to leave you Brittany."

Brittany chokes out a whimper of disbelief at that, "You can't know that."

"Yeah actually I can," Santana starts to say and she cups Brittany's cheeks and draws those hazy blue eyes up to meet her focused brown, "I can because…I'm falling for you Britt. So hard that every time I look into your eyes, I can't think of anything else that I'd ever want to see. I can't leave you, Brittany, because I don't know what I'd do without you."

Santana barely gets to finish her sentence before Brittany's lips are crashing against hers in desperation. Brittany grips tighter at the fabric of Santana's shirt bunched in her hands as her lips slide across full lips and her teeth clash with Santana's teeth. Their bodies' mold together in perfect alignment, and their mouths continue to work against each other.

It's carnal, uninhibited, and completely full of passion.

But soon enough the passionate kisses are interrupted by the flood of hot and wet tears as they fully flow uninhibited from Brittany's eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to turn out so messed up."

Brittany's words break Santana's heart. She knows that if Brittany could have avoided the harshness of her childhood, the abandonment and the lack of love, she would have.

"Shhh, Brittany it's not your fault. You are not a bad person. You're one of the best people I know and it's okay because I'm still here. I still want you." Santana murmurs to Brittany, pulling her in close and holding her tight for the next fifteen minutes or so as Brittany's sobs drown and wrack her body.

Eventually, she feels Brittany's sobs subside and her breathing calm, and when Santana looks down at the woman in her arms she notices Brittany's has cried herself into an exhausted sleep.

Gentle and caring, Santana lays a kiss on Brittany's forehead before she shifts back to be more comfortable and stable while continuing to hold Brittany tightly in her arms.

#################

When Brittany wakes up in the morning she's a little disoriented and acutely surprised of the fact that she's currently lying in the backseat of her Mustang Boss. She's also a slight bit surprised to find that though the angle is awkward and the space less than comfortable, Santana is slumbering peacefully in her arms, her head resting softly against Brittany's chest. She definitely doesn't remember when that happened.

But the one thing she is_ not_ is even remotely terrified of the situation. In fact, Brittany feels freer than she ever has felt before in her life.

An incoherent mumble of words escapes Santana's lips and draws a giggle from Brittany, her chest shaking as she laughs. Ultimately, this action causes Santana to stir from her stupor and awake to slowly lift her head from Brittany's chest and blink down at the other woman with tired brown eyes and a mess of long dark locks.

"Mornin'" Santana rasps, causing Brittany's heart to thump at the tone as she wonders how Santana can sound absolutely drop dead gorgeous this soon after waking up. She fears that her own voice will be decidedly less attractive, and thus remains mute, merely offering the other woman a smile before she leans up and places a kiss to her cheek.

"So you're probably wondering how we got back here?" Santana carries on the one-sided conversation, a long and seemingly endearing yawn occurring directly after the question. She shifts to straddle Brittany's lap, causing the woman below her to bite back a moan at the tantalizing sight of Santana sitting so delightfully above her. Pale hands drop to covered thighs but still Brittany remains mute, simply shrugging to show she's heard but isn't really bothered by the whole thing.

Santana quirks an eyebrow at Brittany's continued silence, "What?" She starts to say and then a horrified expression crosses her face, she slaps a hand to her mouth, "Oh my god I have horrible morning breath don't I?"

Brittany's eyes go wide and before she even realizes what's happening, she's sitting up and wrapping her arms around Santana's waist to keep her perched comfortably in her lap.

"NO!" She exclaims, the volume a tad more excessive than she had intended. But at least one thing's clear, she can speak and she doesn't appear to have a frog's voice. She calms a little, one palm cupping Santana's cheek and stroking softly, "No, you don't at all." She reassures much calmer and notices the way it quickly calms Santana down as well as she drops her hand from her mouth.

Brittany continues to smile at Santana, those bright blue eyes gazing unabashedly into brown, before she leans in and touches their noses together, "And even if you did," Brittany begins to whisper, before tilting her head down so their lips are centimeters apart, "It wouldn't bother me in the slightest." She husks before stretching the distance to capture Santana's lips in her own.

Much like last night, both women practically melt into the kiss. It's unrushed and sweet, like a good morning kiss should be. And Brittany exhales contently when they finally break apart, her forehead cozying up to Santana's immediately after as tan fingers stroke her cheek.

They sit like that, silent for a few minutes until Santana brushes golden blonde locks behind Brittany's ear and places a tender kiss to her temple, "In case you were wondering though, after you passed out last night I managed to carry you to the backseat and lay you down. Then I fell asleep shortly after."

Brittany chuckles but nods, "I had a feeling you were stronger than you looked." She teases.

"Hey!"

Santana's smack to her arm is weak and playful and causes Brittany to chuckle more, she looks up with smile pulling at her lips, "It's okay I'm not judging you."

After a good-natured eye roll of her own Santana sighs and sinks back into Brittany's embrace, "Kidding aside though, you never really did finish your story, if you wanted to that is."

It takes a few seconds but Brittany finally nods, and shortly after she continues the explanation of where her messed up childhood lead her.

"Once my dad died," Brittany begins, a forlorn edge to her voice, Santana squeezes her arms around Brittany tighter once more in encouragement to continue. "Quinn's crazy mom ended up taking Hunter and I in until we were old enough to go out on our own. For three years I honed my skills, Quinn by my side and a pesky younger Hunter always bugging the shit out of us."

That elicits a chuckle from Santana.

"I met Mike and Joe one night when Quinn and I were out surveying our neighborhood for jobs. We joined forces and started up a pretty successful venture. By the time we were 20, we'd met Rory and Lauren and were doing very well for ourselves. Of course, that was also around the time the Evans crew popped up in Vegas too. They were, as they still are, royal pains in the ass. But our exploits, and my dad's name essentially helped take us to where we are now. When we aren't boosting, you've seen it; we race. And we're good."

The end of Brittany's story is met with respectable silence, as Santana both absorbs and processes what she's just been told. It's a lot to take in, but at the same time it truly sheds light on a lot of things. Including why Brittany seems to be the way she is. She knows things like that don't disappear, but she also knows that with someone there strong enough to fight with and for her, Brittany could make it through anything.

Santana rests her hand lightly on Brittany's chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. She tilts up to press a kiss to the underside of Brittany's jaw, feeling the way the other woman shudders in her arms. She smiles and leans back down to rest her head against Brittany's shoulder.

"Sugar seems like an unusual addition to your crew."

Brittany kind of chuckles at Santana's words, "Oh, yeah Sugar. I still don't know much about her. She can be annoying most of the time, a little strange, but she's really a nice girl. She literally came out of nowhere about seven months ago. Dropped into our shop after a boost waving money around. We thought she was the owner of a car we'd boosted until she told us 'My daddy has a lot of money spend on me but not a lot of time. I need something to do in my life that's not boring' and that was it. I mean, she grows on you. She doesn't do much else but financially fund us sometimes, but she enjoys it and I don't know…"

"You have a soft spot for her?"

Brittany nods with a small smile, "It's weird I know because we're practically the same age but I feel like she's my little sister or something."

"I get that. It's cute."

With those words Brittany's smile falters, "Cute? I'm not cute?"

Santana leans away from Brittany's chest to squints a little up at her while raising her thumb and index finger up in a pinching motion, "Kind of, a little bit. Yeah you are."

Upon seeing Brittany's pronounced pout, Santana giggles and leans in to kiss those pouty pink lips, "Don't worry, I think it's unbelievably sexy." She says which elicits a playful eye roll from Brittany and at least a small smile.

She sighs, "Fine, but only for you." She implores while wrapping her hand around the back of Santana's neck and pulling their lips together once again.

The soft muffled ring of Santana's telephone is the only thing that prevents their heavy make-out from turning into something much _hotter _with a lot less clothes. Brittany groans, and Santana hates to answer it until she sees that it's Jesse calling.

After a brief conversation and lots of 'Uh huh' and 'Okay I understand' statements coming from Santana, she hangs up and turns apologetically to Brittany.

"He 'needs' you doesn't he?"

Santana merely nods, regret painting her features before Brittany nods and pecks her on the lips, climbing back into the front seat of the car and waiting for Santana to get situated before she drives them back to the shop.

###############

"I probably don't have to tell you this but I have an overwhelming urge to be extremely protective of you so I'm going to say it anyway," Brittany begins to say as they return to the shop and she puts the Boss in park, turning towards Santana before either of them exit the car. Santana looks at her patiently and Brittany takes a deep breath as she runs a hand through her hair, "Just with everything that's happened lately, I'm begging you to be careful around Jesse. We don't know what he knows yet, and I haven't had the chance to properly brief everyone of the situation yet."

Santana smiles sweetly and leans over to press her lips firmly against Brittany's.

"I promise I'll be super careful and watchful."

"And if anything even seems kind of fishy you'll get out?"

"I promise Brittany."

Brittany breathes a sigh of relief and nods before they start to get out of the car. They meet each other in front of it, Brittany instantly reaching out and taking Santana's hands in her own. Santana leans in and brushes her lips against Brittany's cheek, softly exhaling as she nuzzles her nose against the skin. Brittany's heart flutters with that previously unfamiliar feeling that seems to be cropping up a hell of a lot more around Santana these days.

Blue eyes glance hesitantly into brown and Santana smiles apologetically again, "I have to go." She says and Brittany nods before pulling Santana in and wrapping her up in a tight embrace, her lips automatically pressing to the skin at the shorter woman's forehead.

"You'll come back though, right?"

The uncertainty lacing Brittany's tone causes Santana's heart to clench painfully, she pulls Brittany closer, her nose burying into the crook of her warm neck. She ghosts kisses across the skin and angles them up the column of a pale neck, across the ledge of Brittany's jaw until finally their eyes meet again and Santana's lips slide across pink lips.

When she pulls back, Santana gazes adoringly at Brittany as a small smile tugs at her lips.

"I'll come back Brittany. I could never just leave you."

#################

As much as Brittany would like to shuffle into her home and throw her body on her mattress like the dead weight it feels like, she doesn't have that luxury. Two seconds after watching Santana drive off into the distance, a very pale faced and shocked looking Mike comes rushing out to meet his boss.

"Brittany you have to come now. You're not going to believe this."

* * *

**Umm, it's not really a 'who's the person at the door' cliffhanger right? I mean it's not so bad? And the good news is that you will be getting an update next Friday! How exciting is that? In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you all think about this emotionally filled chapter, was it too much? Not enough? Still leave you wondering? Anything else you'd like to ponder on? I'm just simply impressed that this story has 300 reviews! I mean DAYUMMM you guys that's awesome. I can't thank you enough, but I will continue to try. Thanks y'all!**


	21. Big Wheels Keep on Turning

**Chapter 21: Big Wheels Keep on Turning**

Mike's words don't necessarily rush Brittany into action, but she at least humors the guy and walks with him through the Pierce building and towards the offices a little faster than she normally would.

"Seriously Mike the last thing I need is…" Brittany's words trail off as she follows her friend into the conference room and is quickly exposed to the sight of a female individual sitting with her left knee crossed over her right, long legs barely covered by a ridiculously short skirt, and stiletto heels that could easily poke someone's eye out.

If Brittany's resentment isn't evident from the emotions that cross her face, her words certainly display her irritation, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

The woman in the chair raises an impeccably maintained eyebrow.

"Aww sweetcheeks, I don't think that's any way to treat your favorite aunt." She declares, standing from her chair in the most decorous manner. Brittany tries not to roll her eyes as she watches long straight blonde hair cascade perfectly around the woman's shoulders, and a crooked smirk form on her lips. She winks in Brittany's direction before turning to give a more playful wink in Mike's direction.

"Michael Chang, you sure have grown up."

The normally reserved and not at all floundering man is suddenly a mess of blushes and shy eyes as he literally flusters about.

"Hey Holly. It's really good to see-"

"Mike…shush," Brittany cuts in, her eyes steeling in his direction before turning back to give the other blonde woman in the room a pointed glare, "Seriously Holly, what are you doing here."

The woman, Holly, opens her mouth to supply what Brittany suspects will be a very elaborate and charmingly calculated response, when suddenly another voice is interrupting.

"I invited her." Quinn says as she slips into the room.

"Quinn," Brittany's glare turns loathing, "You're fired."

"Hey now butterfly jam, no need for hostility." Holly beseeches, her voice ringing out in an ever calm and laid back tone as her hands make a soothing wave motion in front of her, "Quinn called me a few weeks ago and told me there were some things going down. I thought I would come by and see how I could help."

"I'm a grown woman Holly, I think I am quite capable of handling my own situations."

Holly quirks an intimidating eyebrow of her own, "Really now? Capable enough to almost get yourself killed, what is it three times now? Plus your brother and another member of your crew go suspiciously missing? Sure thing Sunshine Suzy, you've got everything under control."

Brittany's eyes narrow and focus in on Quinn, clearly upset at the fact that Holly already knows so much about what's happening in her life right now. Brittany's at least partially grateful to see Quinn visibly wince at the look that's glared her way.

Everyone is so engrossed in their own little inner fuming that they don't immediately notice the reappearance of Santana as she steps through the conference door with Puck on her tail, her own eyes going wide at seeing Brittany, Quinn, Mike and a pretty blonde woman she's never seen obviously gridlocked in some kind of intense mental argument.

"I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

Brittany's head whips around to find Santana standing in the doorway, one of her alluringly appealing eyebrows arched to her hairline. Of course, Brittany doesn't get the chance to speak up first (which is really fucking inconvenient considering she's the damn boss.)

"Well hello there you sweet thing you."

"Holly." Brittany warns.

"Where have you been hiding this little darling, Goldylocks? She's gorgeous."

Brittany groans at her inability to stop her very exuberant friend from introducing herself to Santana as she watches said friend step forward with her hand extended and a flirty smile crossing her face.

"Hi, Holly Holliday. I'm Brittany's aunt."

When Santana's eyes go wide and look to Brittany, whose blue eyes are already as wide as saucers, "Holly! You can't just say things like that," Brittany chastises before turning her eyes apologetically to Santana, "She's not really my aunt." She mumbles taking a step closer to the shorter woman who reaches her hand out to grasp Brittany's as it comes to rest by her side.

A thankful look is bestowed upon Santana from Brittany's direction, along with a grateful squeeze of the hand.

"Well, I'm practically family." Holly tries to interject. Brittany sighs.

"Look Holly, I know we were close but we haven't seen you around for two years, and as you are apparently already aware of, there's a lot of shit going on right now. So forgive me if I'm a tad but skeptical about your sudden appearance and weary of letting you back in with open arms."

"Honestly, little B.P. I'm just here to help."

"Please don't call me that," Brittany groans again. Santana is all too curious and exceptionally interested in this fine display of dysfunctional interaction. "Holly, what exactly is your thought process for this situation, if I even want to hear it, and so help me that you mention anything else ridiculous I won't be afraid to send you on your way."

A soft squeeze from Santana's hand is the only thing keeping Brittany grounded right now. All she wants is an answer from this woman, a straight one (which is probably asking too much considering Holly's track record), but Brittany instead gets someone else speaking up in Holly's place.

"I thought she could help with the plan" Quinn's voice dials in from Brittany's left, and blue eyes glare in Quinn's direction once again, this time there's an obvious anger bubbling up from beneath her skin, and even Santana's touch is having a hard time calming it all down.

"You told her about the plan?"

"Holly?" Another voice interrupts yet again and Brittany's eyes round on the entrance of Joe, Rory and Sugar. It's just a big old happy reunion party going on right now.

Holly's face lights up at the appearance of the other Pierce crewmembers, regardless of the fact that she doesn't know Sugar, and she opens her arms wide in show of going over to hug the shit out of everyone.

"Okay, everybody just stop and cool your ass's!" Brittany suddenly exclaims, simultaneously succeeding in halting everyone while at the same time drawing exceptionally confused looks from the lot. Santana, thankfully though, remains calm and collected at Brittany's side, and ultimately provides the best form of grounding.

Brittany runs a hand through her hair and gives a cursory glance to each member of her crew in the room as well as Puck and now David who has managed to sneak in as well.

"I think we all need to sit down, because I have a couple things to explain to everyone."

Brittany ends up spending the next fifteen minutes laying down the gist of why everything has happened as it has in the last few days and what that means for them as a crew. Santana helps Brittany fill everyone in, explaining her end of things in reference to Jesse and where he stands with things. In the end, the Pierce-Lopez clan (or those of them whom are present) now has a clear understanding of the new plan that they will be attempting to execute as things move forward.

"Okay so just to be clear," David is the first to speak up after the lengthy explanation from Brittany and Santana, "The race between you and, the Evans crew I think you said? That was just a preliminary thing to actually qualify to join forces with Jesse's crew?"

Santana nods at her friend, but allows Brittany to answer, "Yeah, basically we had a little bit of a turf war. And because Santana technically kicked his ass, and he'd be an even bigger idiot to even consider showing his face around us again, we won the war and thus have exclusive rights to whatever it is Jesse proposes."

"Which as of now," Santana interjects, "Has yet to actually be determined, but our inside informant has made it clear that Jesse is interested in setting up some kind of high-end boosting game and looking for a way to make nice with one local crew. If he sets something up to test essentially the Pierce crew, and you do well-"

"Like that's even an issue." Brittany interjects smugly.

Santana rolls her eyes at the woman, "Then that is your solid in on the world that Jesse St. James is creating here in Vegas."

"Which, again to be clear," It's now Quinn that interjects, "Is definitely a drug business, that if we play our cards right, we can get Jesse out of the area and our hair for good and manage to keep ourselves out of trouble."

There is a collective nod that sweeps its way through the group sitting at the table and when Brittany is satisfied with their agreement she stands from her chair.

"So any other questions?"

It's silent for a few seconds until Puck stands from his chair and runs a hand over the monstrosity atop his head, he throws a quick glance towards Santana before his beady little eyes land on Holly and his signature cocky smirk pulls across his lips.

"I just have one question," He voices, his tone bordering on what he probably assumes is seductive and appealing, Brittany tries not to vomit all over the table, "Who's the babe?"

Santana rolls her eyes at her lady chasing crewmate. He may be the closest thing she has to a brother, albeit that's a dysfunctional relationship in itself, but sometimes even his over the top cockiness astounds her. Thankfully, it's Brittany who forms a respectable response, though not any less condescending than Santana would have supplied, to the pseudo badass.

"Okay, that's enough of that. I think we've all had our fun today so everyone can get back to their damn jobs now and we can forget about the crew crashing blonde woman for a while."

When no one makes a move to listen, Brittany slams her hands down on the table for added effect before she shouts out a very convincing "NOW!" that instantly snaps everyone into action and causes them to shuffle out the door.

"I mean everyone but you Holly, obviously." Brittany calls to the other woman just as she's inching out the door. Holly stops and turns to face the girl, or woman rather, that she formerly cared for as if she were Brittany's aunt. Her eyes flicker briefly to the Latina sitting to Brittany's right, her brain registering the fact that this woman has now decidedly taken over much of Brittany's life.

Brittany takes a seat and waits for Holly to join her and Santana at the table again, speaking up only when the other woman has finally sat down again, "So now that you know how my crew and I plan to go about things, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Holly blinks a few times before she seems able to formulate some kind of reply,"I figured…I could reach out to some of my contacts-"

"You mean my mom's old contacts, the woman who abandoned her own daughter? You thought that after you basically pulled the same stunt you could just waltz right back in here spouting off things that you think will help when they clearly will not and everything would be just fucking peachy?"

Holly doesn't seem to have any response. Brittany releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head at no one in particular.

"Look," She then begins to say, her piercing blue eyes focused directly on Holly, "The only thing you need to know for now is that despite the fact that I really don't want to see you right now, I'm not going to kick you out. But I want to make it clear that you will stay out of our way unless I ask for you assistance, and even then you will sparingly apply yourself. Maybe you can work your way back into my good graces, but until then I kind of just need you to stray on the outskirts."

"Okay Brittany," Holly says, shocking the younger woman with the actual proper use of her name, "I understand that. If that's what you need from me I will respect your wishes."

"Good." Is all Brittany provides in reply and she waits with a stoic, pokerfaced look spread across her features until Holly walks from the room, at which point Brittany's demeanor deflates and her head falls to rest in her hands.

Not long after Holly's departure, Brittany feels the gentle caress of Santana's palm on her back and it draws her out of her solemn frame of mind. She glances in the other woman's direction, a half smile tugging at her lips and Santana smiles back just as shyly. A tan hand comes up and cups Brittany's cheek, soft fingertips stroking against the skin in such a calm manner, Brittany's almost sure she could be put to sleep by the affectionate touch.

"You know, it's really sexy when you're all boss woman you know?"

Santana's words are a little unexpected, and they force Brittany's eyes to snap open, until she registers exactly what the other woman uttered and a chuckle falls from her lips.

"You think so?"

Full, extremely kissable lips poise in her direction as Santana nods and slowly leans in to Brittany's face, where she meets Santana half way. Their lips brush softly and then press firmer as a pale hand snakes its way around the back of Santana's neck and draws the other woman closer. Santana melts into the sure and commanding touch of Brittany who relishes the taste of Santana's lips.

When they pull apart several minutes later, Brittany's eyes remain closed in that dopey too happy to care way as Santana's fingertips continue to dance across the surface of her cheek. Only when those lips, that Brittany has quickly become addicted to, press against the underside of her jaw does she open her eyes while releasing the most content of sighs.

Santana is full on smiling at Brittany like she knows what she does to the other woman, and Brittany couldn't really be bothered to care.

"Do you want to go work on the Boss a little and get your mind of things maybe?" Santana asks, her voice just barely above a whisper to not shatter the euphoric bliss that they both linger in. Brittany grins broadly at Santana's question and leans in to peck the other woman's lips again.

With a nod she stands and holds her hand out to Santana, "Darling, I think you read my mind."

##################

"Wait, wait San. Ow." Brittany expresses her concerns as her back solidly collides with the car door of the Boss where it's parked in the part of her shop that she and Santana decided to extend their make-out session to. The front of Santana's body efficiently molds itself to her own as Brittany continues her complaint, "There's something poking me in the back."

"Wanky."

"Yeah…wait, what?"

Santana giggles lightly as she pulls back from Brittany's body, not far enough to cause a riot from the other girl, but enough so they can look each other in the eyes with out going cross eyed. Brittany scoots her body away from the object that had been jabbing her in the lower back.

"Damn, that handle's a bitch."

She feels quite a bit better when Santana's hand creeps around and slips under the hem of her shirt, a soft palm rubbing soothingly against the irritated skin.

"Those damn Boss doors will get you every time." Santana murmurs with a cheeky smile as her brown eyes glance up into blue. Brittany's heart does some kind of spontaneous choreographed routine inside her ribcage for a few seconds and then thuds a beat against the walls of her chest, as she's helpless to do anything else but stare back.

"As much as I'd like to just leave you two to it, there are probably some things that need to be dealt with before we can put our plan into motion. Right boss?" Quinn's less than jovial voice is the last thing that Brittany wants to hear at the moment, but things kind of just happen like that sometimes right? Brittany turns her eyes to glance at Quinn as she walks into the shop area and takes a seat on one of the stools at the worktable.

She's about to throw some less than kind words in Quinn's direction, when Santana lips press to her pulse point and stop her heart altogether. Brittany's eyes are quick to focus on the embodiment of perfection that still leans into her body and is wrapped up in her arms.

"There are actually some things that I have to tell you about Jesse and what happened when I met up with his crew earlier." Santana whispers, glancing briefly into Brittany's eyes before returning her lips to the column of a milky white smooth neck. Brittany bites back the moan lodged in her throat at Santana's nibbles and takes a deep breath.

"I suppose it's a good thing Quinn showed up then huh?"

Santana fills Quinn and Brittany in on the situation that occurred at Jesse's warehouse when she briefly returned there this morning and it mostly includes two key pieces of information; one, that Paul Evans and his big ass mouth did not go running to St. James about Santana's involvement with Brittany and the Pierce crew, and two, that their person on the inside (Santana still keeps Brooke's name from dropping as she and Brittany planned) has successfully led Jesse into a detailed strategy to reach out to the other crews in Vegas, or at least the Pierce crew because their the only ones left standing at this point.

"Okay so that's some pretty intense information. Why the hell didn't you tell us this the second you got here?" Are, not so ironically, the first words to fall out of Quinn's mouth.

"Quinn!" Brittany chides, her voice taking on that in charge quality as her eyes slant in her friend's direction.

"I'm just saying Britt, she should have told us earlier."

"And I'm just saying that you need to back the fuck off."

Santana appreciates Brittany standing up for her but at the same time she feels Quinn's tizzy fit is completely uncalled for, "Look whatever. I told you now." She says directing the statement towards Quinn before turning her eyes to Brittany, "It's okay Brittany. While you two discuss whatever it is you need to discuss, I'm going to research some things on the computer to prepare us better if Jesse calls you all out for a boost or something."

Brittany frowns but knows what Santana is offering is probably for the best at the time being. She gives her a nod and leans in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Santana smiles as she turns and heads over to the table, it's far enough away that she won't be able to eavesdrop, but not too far that if Brittany needs her she can quickly come back over.

When Santana sits down at the table and is sufficiently distracted by the laptop in front of her, Brittany's eyes slant back in Quinn's direction, "Quinn, I appreciate you always trying to look out for me. But I've got to say, you dragging Holly into this and taking ridiculous jabs at Santana because you still might not agree with her and I is going a little far. You've gotta get over it."

"Really Brittany? You want me to just get over the fact that this girl has such a hold on you that you're letting things slide that you wouldn't normally let slide if it were anyone else? It's not like you to just forget everything you've ever known because of a girl. Before, I thought it was just a little fling, but Brittany you do realize that she's got deeper than anyone else has before?"

"Actually I do, and believe me it scares the shit out of me. But can you really deny that she's good for this team, and that she and I work well together. I've never been more in tune with someone, and that's what I like best about it. I don't have to try hard with her Quinn, she gets me and I get her and we just work. Yes, there was a point between us where things looked shitty but we're over it, and you should be too, especially after she got on a damn bike for me and raced after a lunatic. It was both equal parts sexy and incredibly brave."

Quinn regards Brittany in a most pensive and contemplative manner. The wheels in her brain turning and cranking out an elaborate thought process that only one Quinn Fabray could ever construct. Her eyes narrow in thought until she seems to find the answer she's been looking for and her qualms about Santana's nature disappear for a moment in favor of discovering something new about her friend.

"Oh my God." She says and slaps her palm against her forehead, "Of course, it all makes sense now. Why didn't I realize that before?" Quinn speaking to herself is not a new occurrence, but it naturally causes Brittany's eyes glance up at her in curiosity and slight apprehension.

After all, sometimes the things that come out of Quinn's mouth are completely insane.

For example,

"You're in love with her."

Five simple words and Brittany's sputtering and tripping over her own feet. And she's not even moving.

To say she was expecting anything of that nature to be spoken by her friend would be a very big lie. And now, if Brittany's little display of flusteredness doesn't absolutely and irrevocably confirm things for Quinn, then she's shit out of luck on the 'deducing things about friends that they don't know' front.

Of course, Brittany's inherent reaction is to deny, deny, deny.

"You really are crazier than I had originally thought Q." Brittany replies, her tone is much cooler and calmer than she had expected it to be. But the damage has already been done, and the blush that's spread across Brittany's face and neck is a dead ringer giveaway, and Quinn fucking knows it.

She watches for a moment as Brittany keeps her back turned to her. Concentrating blue eyes stare off into the corner of the shop where Santana sits perched on the shop stool, laptop still set up in front of her on the worktable. Adorable black-rimmed glasses frame her face. Something flutters in the pit of Brittany's stomach when Santana scrunches up her nose at an image on the screen, and her heart trips over itself in a race for something more composed than its rapid staccato beat.

Brittany sighs heavily as she turns back to face Quinn, the truth painting across her face and something akin to acceptance settling in her bones. She's hard pressed to deny Quinn's words now.

"Holy shit, you _are _in love with her." Quinn says, more statement of fact than anything else. Brittany sighs again, glad at the very least that her friend isn't shouting the information across the universe before she turns glances up at Quinn, her tropical blue eyes layered with that underlining acceptance.

"She said she's falling for me."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "You think? And now you've just confirmed that you feel the same for her. As if it wasn't already obvious."

Brittany shrugs, "You've always been able to read me best Quinn."

"You should tell her."

Brittany's lip turns up and her eyebrows furrow into a weird mix between scrunched up and confused, "What are you playing at? Are you her biggest advocate all of a sudden because you know that I…that I like her a lot?"

"That you love her," Quinn corrects with a pointed look of satisfaction, before she huffs exaggeratedly at Brittany's inability to just admit it out loud, "And I'm still not her biggest fan, I mean I can hold a grudge against her but still want you to be happy. Besides, I promised you I'd apologize, like you begged me to…"

"I don't beg."

"Whatever, the fact is that if _you _feel that way about her I'm kind of shit out of luck with my own reservations, though I still hold them. You're my best friend Brittany, and I'll probably always be skeptical about her good nature towards things but you _are _right about one thing. You two work well together, and I sure haven't seen you this sappy happy in a really long time."

"Jesus Q I didn't ask you to go full blown Romeo, and while you have a point I just-"

"Hey, whatcha doing?" Santana's interruption comes at a most unexpected moment, and her voice though very soothing to Brittany, quite literally scares the bejesus out of her.

"Fuck!" Brittany exclaims jumping a little before her face flushes even more red and she faces Santana who raises an eye skeptically. All Brittany's hoping right now is that Santana hasn't heard the last minute of her and Quinn's conversation, that's not something you just 'hear'.

"Oh hey San," Brittany says, recovering slowly but surely, "Surprised me a little there."

Quinn refrains from laughing really hard out loud. She can disagree with certain things about Santana, but she can't ever deny herself a good laugh at Brittany's expense.

"Sorry about that, I was just making sure things were good."

Brittany nods, swallowing the lump in her throat before her voice releases in a croak, "Yep, all good over here."

Still looking skeptical, Santana narrows her eyes at Brittany before smiling widely and leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, lips lingering a bit longer, "Okay well I just got word from Jesse and he's calling me back again now so I should probably head out."

With that, Quinn rolls her eyes and excuses herself from their presence.

A noticeable mixture between calm and worried washes over Brittany and she straightens up, reaching out blindly and finding Santana's hand instantly to pull her close.

"Oh, okay yeah. I'll walk you to your car then."

Santana beams, "Such a gentlewoman." She says before leaning in and fusing their lips together in a sensual kiss. Santana pulls back several seconds later, her eyes significantly darker, and a coy smirk stretching the length of her full lips.

A light chuckle falls from Brittany's lips as she shrugs. She's sure as hell not going to deny being a gentlewoman. Not if it gets her kisses as sweet as that.

They head out the shop and reach Santana's Nissan with a forlorn silence hanging between them as Brittany swings their clasped hands back and forth. Finally her eyes glance up from where they had been focused on the asphalt.

"So," She says and Santana chuckles lightly. Brittany thinks that she could hear only that sound for the rest of her life and she'd be doing just fine. But alas, the present must continue as it is destined. "You think you'll be out all night?"

Santana's heart skips a little at the amount of vulnerability and care that is packed into Brittany's question. She never thought she'd see the day when the badass commanding car thief and master racer seemed so…adorable. She'll take it though. Tilting up on the balls of her feet, Santana presses her lips to Brittany's jaw line before her lips brush up to the corner of the taller woman's mouth. She places the most indiscriminate of kisses there before pulling back and smirking coyly.

After the entire body shiver works its way through Brittany, her eyelids slide back open and reveal darkened blue.

"If I'm not, I think you know where I'll be." Santana finally husks out in the space between their lips and Brittany's mind fills with possibilities. She nods slowly for a few seconds, no real intention for doing so other than to buy herself some time to properly formulate a word that's not "uhh".

"Okay." Is what she finally settles on and something tells her it was the right choice as she watches one of Santana's eyebrows quirk in its signature inquisitive nature. Brittany merely smiles back in triumphant, as if she's one a great battle, because really if she thinks about it she has. Two can play that game and all.

But also apparent, is Santana's ability to not be bothered by it as evidenced by her blasé attitude following Brittany's one-worded response.

"Okay," She says, her seductive tone having disappeared, "Maybe see you later I suppose, if I'm not too busy and all." And with that she bops Brittany on the nose and turns to walk away.

What the hell just happened?

Brittany finds herself launching her body forward and shouting out a "Wait!" before Santana even gets more than two feet away from her. She rushes over to the woman and immediately spins her around, not even bothering to allow her time to smugly say anything before she crashes their mouths together and swallows any form of boasting Santana might have been intending on delivering.

When Brittany pulls back she can already tell the tables have turned as Santana stands there, eyes still closed and mouth still dropped in an 'O', and it's Brittany's turn to smile smugly.

"I think you know you'll see me later because you won't be busy with anything else."

Santana's eyelids slowly drop open and she has enough thought capacity to nod in agreement to Brittany, watching as the taller woman shoots her a wink and then turns and struts away. She has to laugh a little at how well Brittany can keep up with her in her own game.

Laugh and maybe cry a little.

#################

Brittany walks back towards the shop with the same smug smirk plastered on her face. She worries about Santana like all else, but at the same time knowing that the woman's going to do her best to stay safe and come back to her, well that kind of makes everything, including the waiting, worth it. She finds herself back in her shop before long and ceaselessly wanders over to her toolbox, finding that she has every tool imaginable sitting before her but no real desire to use any of them at the moment.

There are far too many other things tumbling around in her head to care about.

It's like all of her life has been one giant restoration project, but all of a sudden there's something more beautiful, more compelling, more amazing that's standing right in front of her and Brittany can't think of anything better than to take that something and just be happy with life.

Santana is by far and large so much more mysteriously intriguing and exponentially rewarding (just knowing her) than any restoration project Brittany's ever thought of undertaking. And to top things all off, Santana seems to want to stick around and deal with the crazy shit that happens in Brittany's life. It's ridiculously difficult to think there's anything wrong with that picture.

"Head up in the clouds again, Tinkerbell?"

Holly's choice of nickname affords her an unimpressed glare from Brittany. It's no secret that Brittany isn't fond of moniker's that would deem her small or temperamental, even if by all standards she probably is a little more of the latter. She remains silent and unresponsive in Holly's direction, knowing that no matter what she does, if Holly wants to talk to her, she will.

"I remember when you were a little girl, probably seven or eight years old and then even older sometimes," Sure enough Holly begins to speak, "And all you ever wanted to do was play make believe and go out on adventures. You had a peculiar preference for acting very much like the boy who never grows up, you were your own version-the girl who never wanted to grow up." Holly chuckles a little as she shakes her head at the memory of Brittany dressing up and acting, to the best of her ability, like Peter Pan.

Brittany's head turns subtly in Holly's direction, not actually acknowledging that she's listening and interested, but not realty being able to turn away.

"You dove deeper and deeper into that mentality the more your mom stayed away, and I should have seen it then. If I had been a better role model I would have seen it sooner." Holly contends remorsefully, she sighs, "But I'll never forget when your wise beyond your years observance and understanding surfaced one day after you'd watched that movie you loved so much for probably the billionth time."

The knowledge of that movie, and the thought of Brittany as a by then fourteen year-old version of herself being so invested in it, brings a small smile to her lips.

"Do you remember?" Holly inquires, and bright blue eyes finally rise to meet Holly's and she nods just enough to give confirmation that she does remember, Holly smiles and nods in return, "You said that you didn't understand why Peter could so easily give up on something like the connection he and Wendy had. You said that-"

"If I ever found someone who would put up with me and still love me like Wendy did Peter, than that would be something worth holding onto. It would be something worth growing up for." Brittany finishes Holly's thought, something tugging at her heart as she speaks the words aloud. She'd forgotten for a while that she ever said those words, having uttered them in a fit of unforgiving anger at her mother's quick departure from her life. Even more so, she never figured there would actually be a time when her very own words could be applied to her situation.

Holly lets Brittany's words hang in the air for a while and really soak into the younger woman's consciousness before she speaks up.

"And do you think you've finally found your Wendy Darling?"

Before Brittany gets the chance to answer Mike and Puck rush into the shop, excitement reflected almost painfully over both of their faces. They seem to be struggling and pushing at each other like little boys, hoping to get the first and most important word out as they both talk in a simultaneous jumbled mess.

"Bossthere'ssomethinghappeningrightnow-"

"PierceIthinkyoushouldconsiderthisone-"

"Okay both of you pause, rewind, and talk slowly and articulately like I know you're both capable of. Mike, you first."

Mike smiles triumphantly, flashing a cocky grin in Puck's direction before straightening up, "We just got word from Jake that-" is all he manages to get out before Puck is cutting in.

"St. James has called a challenge for the crews. First one to boost a car on the list wins the opportunity-"

"To get in his good graces and run with his crew in the future." Mike successfully recaptures his dominance in the conversation.

A flicker shines behind Brittany's eyes as she considers what she's just heard. This is good news. This is the news they've been waiting for and it all comes down to besting everyone else in the one thing she could do with her eyes closed; boosting a car.

As a wicked smile crosses her face, Brittany regards the three people standing in her shop before she turns to her toolbox and retrieves her boosting tool set and her favorite leather jacket from its perch slung over the side. Spinning back around to face her crew, Brittany's eyebrows arch.

"Well, what the hell are you guys waiting for? Let's go do what we do best and boost a damn car."

* * *

**I want to thank everyone for reviewing, favoriting, following, reading and even lurking on this story! It means the world to me to see that, and I love hearing all of your thoughts, opinions, and predictions. A big shout out to my dedicated guest reviewers as well because even though I can't personally reply to you I still very much appreciate your input! **


	22. Race Right Into Your Heart

**Warning: **Sexy times

**#############**

**Chapter 22: Race Right Into Your Heart**

"We're leaving in less than five minutes, everyone better have their shit together or I'm leaving you behind!" Brittany shouts to her crew, one foot already out the door. She seems to have a second thought, "Actually I don't mind leaving most of you behind. Just don't get in my way." She calls back.

Mike and Joe reach her side, suited up in their boosting gear. Rory makes his appearance next to them a moment later followed by Puck, Cooper and David.

Brittany's forehead furrows, "Where they hell is Quinn?"

"Here!" The blonde in question comes rushing out from the offices part of the building. Brittany frowns at her friend since it's not very much like her to be so far behind. Things get a little more suspicious when Holly and Sugar come walking in from the same direction as Quinn just did.

"Hey sugar plum!" Holly's too cheerful voice, as opposed to her normally cheerful voice, trip warning bells in Brittany's head. But before she can address the situation Rory's phone rings and everyone turns to him to listen to his side of the conversation, knowing that Jake is on the other end.

When the Irish boy hangs up he nods towards his boss, "Jake says the game is on," He starts, his face looking paler by the second and he contemplates just how he's going to tell his boss the next part.

"Oh for fucks sake Rory spit it out!"

"It's just, he's given confirmation on t-the c-car Jesse wants you to steal," Rory stutters out, now on the brink of passing out. Blue eyes look at him expectantly. He swallows and wipes at his brow, mustering up all the courage he has.

"You're not gonna like what it is."

####################

"Are you sure you're going to be okay boss?" Mike asks, acting driver of one of the two groups that are heading out.

The intention is that Joe, Cooper and Puck with the help of David and Rory will attempt to steal other cars in vicinities far away from Brittany, Quinn, and Mike's intended target as a sort of distraction. That way Brittany can have an allotted amount of time to successfully boost the car and get it away from the scene before the cops even know what's happening.

"I'll be fine Mike, although I do wish that there wasn't so much damn secrecy in my own crew."

Quinn narrows her eyes at Brittany's comment, knowing precisely what the woman is referring to. Brittany made it a point to snap at Holly, and kindly tell Sugar, that neither of them we going with as Holly was under Lauren's watch because she was acting sketchy and Brittany didn't want Sugar to get hurt. She hadn't spoken to Quinn directly since then.

"Look Brittany you may think that we're hiding secrets but it's not like that." Quinn tries to explain, though remains, as always incredibly vague about it.

Brittany scoffs, "Oh yeah? Then what the hell is it like. Please, do enlighten me."

An exasperated sigh reaches Brittany's ears from the back seat Quinn's explanation sure to follow when the static of the radio breaks through the tension and Puck's voice greets them.

"Crew _Los Gatos_ are in place."

A laugh pops from Mike's mouth at the chosen 'crew' name for David, Cooper and Puck's group and even Quinn can't help but giggle as well as she hears what must be David's muffled voice telling Puck in Spanish that those words were not the ones he told Puck to say.

Brittany groans and rubs her temples. She swears she deals with infants sometimes.

"Good, whatever," Brittany speaks through the walkie and then shakes her head, "And that's a horrible name."

Puck isn't able to reply as Rory's voice comes over the walkie next, "Uh Joe and I are in position as well boss."

"Thank God you didn't give yourself a ridiculous nickname. Alright, everyone on alert, we should be at the car in," Brittany starts to say and turns to Mike who is also navigating by GPS, he holds up three fingers, "Less than three minutes. Let's not fuck this up now, you hear. Over."

They drive in silence for a few seconds before Brittany hears Quinn take a deep breath as if intending to speak again. She turns from the front seat and looks at her friend.

"When you speak to me next, you'd better have a damn good explanation for things because I'm sick of your shit Quinn. Don't mess this up."

Quinn snaps her mouth shut and though reluctant, realizes the need to acquiesce and gives her boss a stiff nod.

###################

After Brittany watches Mike relocate his own car down the road, she turns back to face the car that's she's expected to steal. Her eyes narrow at Jesse's choice, it's almost like he knew this car was typically a pain in her ass. Although the last time she boosted one, it did provide some pretty close contact with a particular sexy Latina.

Brittany catches a flash of black in the corner of her eye. It takes her a moment before she recognizes what it could be, and then a smile stretches across her lips.

Well, speak of the devil.

Intent on not deviating from her plan unless she absolutely has to, Brittany stealthily makes her way over to the, this time, candy apple red car and pulls out her boosting tools. With one glance over her shoulder and a quick scan around the perimeter, Brittany makes direct eye contact with the car.

"Lovely Cayman, we meet again." She speaks aloud to the car, and hears a ruffle come from the bushes on the other side followed by a very raspy voice. Like if sex had a sound (besides the _obvious_ sounds) it would be this voice.

"I seem to remember this not going so much in your favor last time. What makes you think things will be any different this time around?"

Brittany merely flashes her award winning I own the world smirk as her eyes fall on the leather clad Santana that stands on the other side of the car, "Well that was before and this is now. The Cayman's not my unicorn anymore so I'm not at all worried." She tells her, momentarily putting her tools in her back pocket to walk around to Santana and reach her hands out to place on the woman's hips and pull her closer.

Santana doesn't even get another word in before Brittany is fusing their mouths together. She moans into the taller woman's mouth as her hands cup Brittany's neck and she leans further into the woman to deepen the kiss, feeling Brittany smile against her lips.

With a fleeting, and teasing, flick of her tongue against Santana's top lip, Brittany pulls back as a huge grin pulls across her face, "I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon." She whispers, leaning down to peck Santana's lips again. The smaller woman snuggles into Brittany's chest, allowing her to be wrapped up in long, strong arms.

She sighs, "Jesse figured he'd give you some competition and keep you honest by sending a few of his own guys out. I might have had Jake threaten Rory to get your exact whereabouts." Santana admits causing Brittany to chuckle.

"Keep _me_ honest?" She jokes, and then leans back to look at Santana with a smug smirk, "And _you're_ supposed to be my competition."

The other woman gasps as if appalled and playfully smacks Brittany on the shoulder, "Excuse you, but I seem to remember that it was most of _my_ efforts that allowed you to boost this car last time."

Brittany's smirk never falters, "Ah, but who's to say that I ever actually needed your help? I did, after all, get you in my lap that night."

Santana's jaw drops at this and she waits a moment before her tiny fists of fury start flying against Brittany's chest. This just naturally draws more laughs from Brittany, because she suspects that if Santana really wanted to she could hurt her but she knows the woman's not even trying. She allows the blows for a few seconds before her fingers wrap securely around Santana's wrists and she maneuvers them to rest on her hips while she grasps at the lapels of Santana's leather jacket.

Suddenly there's a decal on Santana's undershirt that catches Brittany's attention and she pulls the jacket open wider to expose more of the shirt, a laugh popping from her lips followed by a smile.

"Is that for real?"

"What do you mean is it for real? I'm wearing it aren't I?"

Brittany chuckles again and reaches up to trace the large S shape on Santana's chest. Blue eyes flick up to brown, mischief dancing in their depths.

"I didn't have you pegged as a DC girl."

One of Santana's eyebrows arches to her hairline, "Who said I was? It's just a shirt with a giant S on it, my name starts with an S."

The taller woman doesn't appear to be convinced. She takes a further step back and brings her index finger to her lips where she taps lightly as if in thought. Her head tilts to the left and then to the right, a deliberating expression passing over her features. Finally she seems to come to a conclusion.

"Nope, you're totally into superheros and you can't tell me otherwise."

Santana begins to protest but Brittany pulls her close again and shuts her up with a kiss to the lips, "It's alright Santana, I never said I had a problem with it."

The smaller girl relents, sinking back into Brittany's embrace and sighing, "I really like the blue too, and the sleeves have little rhinestones on them. Plus, it goes well with my outfit, sets it apart a little."

Brittany nods her head in agreement, "Of course it does. Seeing as how you're wearing black leather, again." She leans back once more and takes another glance up and down Santana's body, "Do you own anything that isn't leather?" She teases and Santana's eyebrows waggle suggestively.

It takes a moment for Brittany to catch on and then she laughs, "Well I guess that's something I can figure out on my own." She says with a wink, "In the meantime, I'm just going to admire you in that shirt and outfit combo. It's surprisingly sexy."

"Of course it is. It's Superman and black leather that's really flexible. Besides, I make this look good."

"Oh there's no denying that, and flexible huh?" Brittany's inquiry retains a certain alluring edge as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down on it lightly, her eyes lighting up with the way they shamelessly admire the woman before her. "I'd like to see how flexible I could g-"

"Hey Pierce are we doing this or what? We've been in position for ten minutes already." Puck's voice suddenly screeches over the walkie attached to Brittany's side. Santana's eyes expand in recognition of the voice.

"Is that Puck?"

Brittany nods and lifts the device to her lips, "Jesus Puck, easy on the volume next time. I'm in position and Operation Distraction is a go. Over."

"Wait you still think that you're going to be the one to steal this car?" Santana asks incredulous as Brittany reattaches the walkie to her side and walks back towards the driver's side door, Santana on her heels.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because Jesse needs to think I'm at least partially competent enough to steal a car, which you know I am, unless of course I'm going against my own damn crew."

Brittany looks over her shoulder at Santana before she drops to her stomach on the ground and reaches under the car, feeling out the box she knows contains the circuit system for the surveillance/alarm trigger for the Porsche.

She finds it with an 'Ah ha!" and flicks it open lightly poking around for the particular piece she's looking for, when she finds it she shifts around and grabs her wire cutters, turning on her back and reaching under the car with her other hand simultaneously clipping the wire she needs to and pressing down on the emergency button to disable the alarm.

When nothing sounds she considers it a success and stands back up, reaching out and gripping the door handle and tentatively opening it.

Brittany does an internal happy dance when the door opens without incident and looks back over her shoulder at Santana who is still standing there expectantly with her arms folded across her chest. Brittany cracks a smile.

"Aww babe, come on. You want me to win don't you, that way I get accepted by Jesse and all."

"No I want you to fight for it and let me drive off with the car, I'll tell him how close you were to getting it and how worthy you are and we'll both be successful."

A fair eyebrow quirks in disbelief, "Seriously? You want me to just let you win this round."

"It's what a fair person would do."

"Who said anything, ever, about me being fair?"

Santana practically stomps her foot, "Ugh you're like the worst person ever!"

A chuckle leaves Brittany's lips as she slips into the car, "Please, you know I'm like the best girlfriend ever."

She doesn't immediately register what has fallen out of her mouth, completely unintentional. Yeah sure she was thinking about asking Santana to maybe, eventually, probably sometime down the road or after a sweaty sex session be her girlfriend. But just letting it tumble from her mouth out of fucking no where?

Great fucking A. She may have blown all her chances now.

Brittany is paralyzed with fear, and out of her peripherals she can see Santana is frozen in a similar position. She swallows thickly and manages to turn her eyes towards the woman.

"Um…" Is all she gets out.

"Did you just ask me to be your girlfriend by basically implying you already were?"

Brittany unintentionally winces at how lame it sounds when it comes out of Santana's mouth. She swallows thickly, "Well you see I kind of might have been thinking about it and…you know you can totally forget about it," Brittany sees Santana's face minutely fall, she quickly turns so her feet rest outside of the car, "Or don't because I mean if you're game?"

Shit, Brittany feels _really_ lame right now.

Luckily, Santana is just all full of surprises as she kneels down to Brittany's level, her hands rest on Brittany's jean covered thighs.

"No, I mean yes, I'm game it's just..." Santana says quickly and trails off a little, trying to dispel any fear that Brittany's brain is no doubt conjuring up with her lack of answer but at the same time trying to properly formulate her own response, "It's just I'm kind of new to this whole thing."

Brittany's head tilts to the side, curious, "What dating?"

"Dating girls, yeah."

Oh, well that would kind of explain some things…except that it really wouldn't.

"Could have fooled me." Brittany says with a shrug of her shoulders and the carefree quirk of the corner of her lip. Santana rolls her eyes, desperately fighting the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment that's rapidly spreading through her body (and appearing evident on her cheeks despite her tan complexion).

"I didn't say I was new to _girls_," Santana emphasizes the word and Brittany sucks her lips into her mouth, "I've just never had the particular opportunity to date them."

Brittany bobs her head, "Good to know."

Santana shuffles around a bit in front of Brittany, clearly wishing to elaborate more. Brittany tilts her head in questions and cocks an eyebrow. Santana rolls her eyes at her hesitation.

"It's just I've never really found anyone that I even considered having more than just a fling with. I told you there were things about me you didn't know."

Brittany shrugs, trying to brush off that sense of sadness that quickly seems to be creeping up on her. Not to mention the numerous abundance of questions that suddenly crop up.

"When you say anyone, do you really mean anyone?"

Santana arches an eyebrow, "Are you asking me if I play for both teams?"

Brittany makes no sign of acknowledgement, but the silence that's coming of her palpitates in the direction of positive for that particular question.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Brittany scoffs, "I'm positively certain that I have already established my stance on things. I'm definitely all about the lady lovin'."

"Well then that makes two of us."

Brittany can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips, she flits her eyes over Santana, "So you're in love with ladies but you've never been in love with a lady?"

"I didn't say that, I just said I don't really do relationships."

For some reason that particular statement burns something in Brittany's gut. She'll be the first to admit that relationships are not her forte, but she's at least given them a shot once or twice. The fact they didn't work out was just a minor inconvenience. But now, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't just a tad disappointed in the direction this conversation has gone, and that makes absolutely no fucking sense to her because normally she wouldn't give a crap, casual things are easier anyway.

Then again, casual things really only work if both parties are, well, casual about the whole thing. If Brittany's revelations to Quinn not so long ago are any indication about things, Brittany would have to be an idiot to claim she wants something just casual with Santana.

When the hell did she turn into such an idealist?

She turns back to situate herself in the car, her arm hanging limply at her side as depressing thoughts of failure fill her mind. Brittany's interrupted from her thoughts when Santana reaches out and places a hand tentatively on her forearm, her fingers carefully caressing the tattoo that lingers just under the skin.

"But," Santana begins to say, "If say, a really hot blonde with gorgeous blue eyes happened to be interested in me, I'd probably be less inclined to say 'No' to her."

Blue eyes snap back to brown and Brittany regards the playful smile that adorns Santana's lips. She's helpless to dismiss the return smile that now stretches fully across her face.

"Oh?"

Santana nods and Brittany chuckles again, this time rolling her own eyes in a playful good-natured manner.

"So all this time, all I had to do was ask?"

Before Brittany understands what's happening, Santana is climbing into the car and straddling her lap, her hands wrap around a pale neck and a soft smile is presented on her lips. Those same lips split open to reveal pearly white teeth and she shrugs her shoulder in a nonchalant fashion.

"I told you so, it was as simple as th-"

Santana's words are silenced when Brittany leans in and captures her lips. Santana willing returns the kiss, leaning in further and deepening it as much as possible from her position. She feels long fingers glide into her hair and blunt nails scratch against the base of her scalp, as Brittany's tongue swipes across Santana's bottom lip and dips into her mouth pulling a moan from somewhere deep in her throat.

It's not like they haven't kissed before, but right now? It kind of feels like everything's been intensified. Like they were hooked up to an electric breaker and someone flipped a switch.

The kiss deepens, intensifies, but Brittany remembers they still do have a job to do and with great reluctance she pulls back and looks to Santana for understanding. A soft peck from the other woman is all Brittany needs to know that everything is cool and they can now proceed with their original plan.

Santana speaks up first, "So what exactly are you proposing we do about all of this?"

Brittany smiles that mischievous this can only bring nothing but really really bad, even though it's wickedly good, stuff smile.

"Well girlfriend," She begins, loving the way the foreign word actually sounds really good rolling off her tongue, "I'd say that we take this car back to the shop and maybe get reacquainted with each other."

Santana quirks an eyebrow, already steadily falling into Brittany's charming ploy, even if she'd deny it until her face turned blue. "Oh?" She inquires, her own light-hearted flirting nature present and accounted for.

Leaning in that much closer to Santana so that she can wrap her arms around a slim waist and pull their bodies flush together at every possible surface, Brittany gives a coy nod and stretches up to brush her lips across the ledge of Santana's jaw, "Mmmhmmm," She hums into the skin before her lips trail a path up to the shell of Santana's ear where she nibbles on the cartilage a bit and catches the hitch of the other woman's breath.

"After all," Brittany husks her breath moist and hot against Santana's flesh as she draws the word out, "I think it's about time we made up for some things, and by make up I do in fact mean have sex."

Santana shivers in Brittany's arms as the words light a fire in her veins. Her fingers grip more desperately at the nape of Brittany's neck as her eyes close in heightened excitement. Her mouth falls to the crook of Brittany's neck where she places a chaste kiss before nodding into the skin.

"That might be the best damn plan I've ever heard."

#################

Not only was the Cayman laughably easy to steal this time around, it also proved to be that much more entertaining as well. Brittany had called the rest of the crew in for an impromptu race back to the 'base' area, and with Santana by her side, and newly minted as her official girlfriend, Brittany was damn near unstoppable.

Twice she cut Mike off as she shot out of back alleys and side streets, earning a glare from Quinn in the passenger seat that just made Brittany laugh that much more. Naturally when she pulled onto the asphalt just outside the shop, she had enough time to calmly step from the car, with Santana by her side, and perch herself triumphantly on the hood, minutes before Mike, Puck and Joe, and their respective passengers made their appearance.

As each crew driver passed Brittany with a grunt they slapped the customary fifty bucks into their bosses hand for loosing the race. She smiled wider when Santana chastised Puck to pay up as well for not even coming in second. And just like that, Brittany was 150 bucks richer.

Easiest cash money _ever._

When the group finally disperses after Brittany informs them of their tomorrow meeting, and specifically glares at Quinn in indication they are certainly going to talk (but definitely not tonight), and she and Santana come to a conclusion on how to approach the Cayman and Jesse topic, Brittany looks at Santana with a lopsided smirk.

"Would you care to join me at my place?"

Santana flashes her own smirk, but isn't awarded time to reply before Brittany is scooping her up in her arms and the smaller woman is letting out a tiny shriek and wrapping her legs around Brittany's waist.

Carrying Santana all the way to her door is not a problem for Brittany, and even though she stumbles slightly as she walks them through the door, possibly because their lips are fused together and her eyes are closed, things are going a-okay. That is until Brittany touches a certain part of Santana's lower back as she shifts her hands around for a better grip and Santana pulls her lips away almost instantly as she releases a pained hiss.

Eyes wide, Brittany freezes, "Shit! I'm so sorry. Are you okay? What I'd do?" She rushes out, scared she's ruined the mood but panicked more than anything that she's hurt Santana. A frown covers full lips but Santana still leans down and pecks Brittany's lips softly with a shake of her head.

"It's nothing you did, I guess I'm still sorer than I thought from that bike crash." Santana admits and Brittany helps her lower herself to the ground, but remains lightly gripping onto her hips, a worried expression crossing her face.

"You told me you didn't get hurt."

Santana nods, "I didn't, I mean I wasn't going that fast and the fall was hardly a fall but it was like a residual thing you know? Yesterday I realized I had a small bruise on my back and then it just kind of progressed into a larger one. It doesn't hurt per se, except for when it's touched, I guess." She admits, frowning more at the thought.

Brittany takes a step towards Santana and bends slightly, tucking her right arm at the back of Santana's knees and her left arm at her shoulder, and in one quick motion she sweeps Santana into her arms.

"Is this okay?" She asks softly, and Santana stares up at her in awe but manages a nod. Walking over to her bed carrying Santana in her arms, Brittany lays the woman gently on her bed so her head rests on the pillows and leans over her, bracketing her body by placing an arm on each side of her.

After pressing a light kiss to Santana's forehead, Brittany gazes down into brown eyes, "Just let me take care of you okay?" There's absolutely no sign of opposition from Santana and Brittany begins to effortlessly remove every inch of the woman's clothes, making it more like a sacred art than anything else.

She eases Santana into a sitting position and dips her hands under the material of her leather jacket as she leans in and presses their lips together. Brittany's fingers flit over Santana's shoulders, slowly shrugging the heavy jacket from the woman's body as her head tilts and she sucks Santana's top lip between her own. With the jacket shrugged off, Brittany's fingers glide down Santana's torso and stop at the waistband of her tight leather pants.

Deftly popping the button, the sound of the teeth snapping apart centimeter by centimeter can be heard just as Brittany pushes her tongue into Santana's mouth. Her hands slip under the leather material and work their way around to the curve of Santana's ass, earning a moan as Santana shifts forward slightly to allow better access, but then Brittany is peeling the garment from Santana's body. Their lips never part, but simply shift forward and backwards, side to side as Brittany finally gets the ridiculously tight pants off Santana.

Her hands return to the hem of Santana's top and tug upwards, peeling that away from warmed tan skin in one fluid motion, their lips only breaking for a second to allow it, and then Brittany's hands are on the clasp of Santana's bra, unclipping it and sliding it down her arms to toss to the side with the other clothes. Brittany's left hand falls to Santana's waist and pushes lightly, encouraging the woman to lie back down. Santana is quick to do so.

Brittany's lips break from the kiss with a wet pop, "I'm going to take a second to remove my own clothes, alright?" She asks as she slips off the bed and moves to stand at the foot of it.

Santana answers with a nod, their eyes never disconnecting. Brittany smiles in return and reaches down to grip at the hem of her shirt, quickly pulling it off her body and tossing it aside before fumbling with the button on her pants and tugging those down until they fall to the ground and she steps out of them. She watches as Santana's pupils dilate as they focus on Brittany's bra and boy shorts covered body, admiring every inch of that tasteful looking smooth milky white skin, hard lines of sculpted and flexing muscles, and delicate feminine curves.

Santana's eyes flicker back up to Brittany's noticing how the blue of her eyes have significantly darkened as well while Brittany herself admires the dips and curves of Santana's lusciously bronzed skin, full breasts, and incredibly inviting softness. She takes a step back towards the bed and crawls onto it where Santana's feet rest. Her advancement is thorough and determined, but playfully enticing and mischievously calculated.

When she's hovered precisely over Santana's body, their eyes shift slightly to lock again and Brittany smiles as she lowers her body on top of the smaller woman's and draws their lips together. Moans are released, from both women, as their bodies brush together, covered centers heated even through the fabric, the unique feeling of lace fabric brushing against bare skin where Santana's chest is naked but Brittany remains in her bra.

It takes only a moment for Santana to remedy that, as her tongue slips past Brittany's lips and her fingers tickle down the woman's spine until they come in contact with the clasp of Brittany's dark blue bra. Santana admires everything about the moment. The way Brittany's heart is hammering audibly against her chest, the soft yet rough at the same time feel of Brittany's tongue against her own, the way their legs have tangled together subconsciously at the bottom of the bed.

She pulls the back of the bra apart and Santana's fingers slip under the straps covering Brittany's shoulders, sliding them down in time with the kiss they're both still caught up in. When the bra is free, Santana's hands glide down and cup Brittany's perky breasts, smiling at the way they fit perfectly in her hands, and as a moan is drawn from Brittany's throat the taller woman seems to remember why she got Santana on the bed in the first place (well, perceptibly the main part is obvious, but it's not the only reason.)

Brittany reluctantly pulls back from the kiss, with protest from Santana, and pushes up to create a small distance between them so as to not be tempted. Santana pouts and Brittany laughs.

"None of that beautiful, I had planned on taking care of you and you went along and got me sufficiently distracted."

A coy smile tugs at the corner of Santana's mouth as she shrugs, "Well, I was having fun."

"Trust me, you'll be having a lot more fun in just a few seconds." Brittany husks as she sits fully up and straddles Santana's stomach. Brown eyes flicker down to Brittany's chest to marvel at the way her breasts bounce lightly with the action. Brittany rolls her eyes, still grinning nonetheless and tilts down a bit to re-obtain Santana's attention.

"Can you turn over for me gorgeous?"

Santana's eyes spark with curiosity and mild apprehension, but the aroused tingle that's flowing through her entire body simply at Brittany's presence is enough to get her to acquiesce. As Brittany shifts up higher on her knees, Santana makes the effort to turn around so that the side of her face is squished into the pillow and her stomach rests against the smooth fabric of Brittany's duvet.

A moan slips from her lips when she feels Brittany shift back slightly and lower herself back onto her legs, so she's effectively straddling Santana just below her ass. Brittany's fingers reach out and tenderly ghost over the skin of Santana's back, from her shoulders, over her neck, down her spine, touching each back dimple, before angling off to the side and brushing across her hips. Then Brittany flattens her palms against the skin and skims back up Santana's sides. She brushes over Santana's ribs and just the side swells of her breasts before moving them back up to her shoulders where they pause.

At this point Santana's eyes have long since closed in blissfulness, but as she waits for Brittany's delicate but sure fingers to find more of her skin, she suddenly realizes that she doesn't feel anything. Her eyes pop open just in time to watch Brittany lowering her face to her back where her lips press into Santana's skin, instantly turning it into fire wherever she touches her.

Without lifting from the skin at any point, Brittany traces a similar path over Santana's body with her lips as her hands rub softly up and down her sides. She reaches the bruise that's visible at the small of Santana's back, just a little towards the right, and takes a big gulp of air before slowly blowing it out of her mouth through barely parted lips. Judging by the way Santana's skin sprouts goose flesh, and the muscles in her back flex, Brittany knows she's doing something right.

The tips of her fingers ghost softly down Santana's skin until they rest on her hips and her thumbs stroke circles at the little indents on the tan back. Brittany hears Santana sigh as she lowers her lips to the discolored and sore skin and presses gentle butterfly kisses across the area. She notices the subtle shift of Santana's hips as they press slightly into the mattress, and Brittany can feel the way Santana's skin is hot with desire. Brittany's own body is practically buzzing with want and need.

With a tender kiss placed to the center of the bruise and a few scattered kisses up Santana's spine, Brittany places one final kiss to the nape of Santana's neck before she lowers her lips to the woman's ear.

"You can turn back over now."

Santana shifts almost instantly, causing Brittany to chuckle softly as she sits up just enough for the woman to fully turn around onto her back below her. Brittany's heart flips at the way Santana looks so absolutely at peace and ease, her eyes hooded, a lazy smile stretched across her mouth.

She settles her body back down on top of Santana, "Is this okay?" She asks and with a confirmation nod from the woman below her, Brittany brings their lips back together.

This time her hands pay rapt attention to every inch of skin, every curve, every dip, every slope of the front of Santana's body. Smoothing across her collarbone, down her arms, over her abs, until she reaches the curve of Santana's gloriously full breasts, and easily cupping the mounds in her hands. Santana bites Brittany's lip at the contact and a moan vibrates through her mouth.

Brittany's lips pull away only to join her dancing, tracing, teasing fingers. Her tongue pokes out and traces the swell of Santana's breast, swirling around the nipple until she takes it in her mouth and sucks until the nub hardens and peaks, before she releases it with a wet pop and lavishes the other one with the same attention and care.

Santana's body arches into her mouth, a moan falling breathless from her lips, her hands tangle in messy blonde locks and tug incessantly, trying to pull Brittany closer, hold her mouth in place, but Brittany has many many other plans for Santana and as soon as both breasts and both nipples have been given adequate attention, she trails her kisses sloppily down Santana's stomach. Pressing a kiss to each line that carves out an ab, she scrapes her teeth over Santana's more pronounced hipbones before dipping her nose into the woman's navel while pressing kisses into the smooth soft skin just below it.

Brittany's eyes gaze back up the length of Santana's body and lock with a brown so dark she could swear it was black. Santana's bottom lip it pulled desperately between her teeth, her hands are still running loosely through Brittany's hair, keeping the locks out of her face and their eye contact unbroken. While still looking into Santana's eyes, Brittany's tongue pokes out between her lips and runs the length of smooth skin just above where she knows Santana aches for her most.

A whimper, though barely audible, makes it's way from between Santana's lips and her body involuntarily rolls with need. Brittany's hand snakes back up a tan body to grope one of Santana's breasts, pinching a stiff nipple between her fingers and tugging once before her hands shoot quickly back down to the waistband of Santana's thoroughly soaked through panties. Her heady scent invades Brittany's senses and sends shivers through her body. She makes eye contact again as she grips at the flimsy fabric meant to cover Santana's center and tugs it down the woman's body, watching in awe as tan hips rise off the bed in assistance.

A glistening center becomes exposed to Brittany's eyes, the scent surrounding her and drawing her in. She smiles, "God Santana, you really are absolutely stunning." Is whispered.

"_Ugh_ Brittany…I need you." Santana feels no shame in begging. It brings a smile to Brittany's face again and she's happy to oblige.

When her mouth first makes contact with Santana's sex, the wetness she finds there draws a moan from her mouth that vibrates against Santana and causes the other woman to gasp. Brittany is quick to extend that pleasure as she slips her tongue through Santana's arousal and flicks it against the swollen nub at the top, causing Santana to jerk at the action. Brittany chuckles as her lips wrap around Santana's bundle of nerves and her hands press down on the woman's hips, anchoring her in place.

Brittany alternates swipes of her tongue over Santana and sucking the nub into her mouth, drawing both moans and attempted thrashing about from the Latina. When Santana legs start shaking next to Brittany's ears, she brings two fingers down to Santana's entrance and presses just the tips in.

"OH! _Yes!_ Like that…oh!" Santana screams out at the feeling, practically trembling with want. She glances down at Brittany, her arousal spiking even higher at the sight of the blonde hair between her legs, one hand is fisting the bed covers beside her body, the other is tangled in that same hair to ensure Brittany doesn't leave her current position. Santana gasps.

"B-Brittany!" She cries out again as the woman flicks her tongue against her again, "Inside, I want you _inside_." She begs, the feeling of tension tugging at her from ever angle of her body.

Brittany is quick to grant Santana's wish, easily pressing both fingers inside of Santana's core, groaning at the way she feels Santana immediately squeeze around her digits. Santana sighs, or moans at this point Brittany can't really tell, in relief as Brittany pushes fully inside of her. That tongue and those lips still working expertly at her other button.

"Ugh baby you feel so incredible." Brittany murmurs as she takes a quick breath, slowly pulling her fingers out to the tips before sinking them back in and angling them upwards. With one final kiss to Santana's bundle of nerves, Brittany kisses a path back up Santana's body, her fingers never ceasing in their unpredictable pace of in and out thrusting, her angle changing every time she dips deeper into Santana.

When she reaches Santana's breasts, her teeth scrape against a hard nipple sucking lightly and earning a gasped moan. Finally when her lips reach Santana's they connect sloppily as Santana's hands come up to frame Brittany's face. She moans at one particular deep thrust, shaking below Brittany as long slender digits are curled and dragged across her inner wall. Brittany feels Santana clutch at her fingers, almost as if pulling them in more and she groans into the woman's mouth, her own arousal heightened by it all.

Only when Santana feels a sticky wetness against her thigh does she realize that Brittany has shifted her body over and is grinding down on her leg in search of release. The kiss breaks as Santana cries out again.

"God, _fuck, _Brittany. Oh right there!" She pulls Brittany closer as the tips of the blonde's fingers glide over_ that_ spot deep inside of her. Santana's hand is shaking with pleasure but she manages to move it down Brittany's stomach and slide it between her legs, her head dropping back at the wetness she feels. Brittany has to be as turned on as Santana is and she suspects they both won't last much longer.

Santana's fingers find their way through Brittany's folds and she circles the woman's hardened nub, earning a gasp and furious nod from Brittany, whose own thrusts falter momentarily at the touch. Gliding down a little more, Santana pushes her fingers into Brittany gasping as the other woman's hips jerk downwards and sink them in deeper. They start up a rocking rhythm. Brittany's eyes squeeze shut as she's quickly rocketed forward in her effort towards release until she's caught up with Santana.

"S-San." Brittany moans into Santana's shoulder where her forehead rests. She feels Santana's free hand cup her cheek and brush softly at the skin under her eye and when she opens them she's looking down into a face of absolute bliss. Santana rocks up into one of Brittany's thrusts just as she curls her fingers into the woman and she feels Santana's walls grip desperately around her as she reaches her climax.

Watching Santana fall apart beneath her and hearing a broken moan of "B-Britt_any_" along with the added stimulation of Santana's fingers she's been desperately riding, Brittany follows Santana into bliss a moment later.

Brittany's eyes pop open as a euphoric feeling engulfs her and all she can concentrate on is how she feels about the woman falling apart beneath her. Before her brain even catches up to her mouth, she lets the words that seem to have been on the tip of her tongue slip from her lips.

"I'm so in love with you."

She hears the words, but it sounds like some kind of echo or distorted version of her voice, only when Santana's eyes snap open and meet hers does Brittany realize that she did in fact say those words. There's heavy panting between their lips that rest a few inches apart. She can feel the way Santana's heart beats rapidly against her chest, to match a rhythm that Brittany's own heart has accelerated to.

She holds her breath because what feels like hours have passed and Santana still hasn't responded. Suddenly a warm palm cups her cheek again and Brittany sees a single tear escape one of Santana's eyes and travel down her cheek. The other woman tilts up with a smile across her lips.

One single sentence is murmured against her lips before they are captured in a kiss,

"I love you too."

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**If you're interested I will probably be posting Part one of a three-part story (involving Brittana love) on Monday. Hope to see you there too! Thanks again y'all.**

**Oh PS I know that Los Gatos basically means 'the cats' but that's what I was going for seeing as how it was Puck who said it. **


	23. Life In the Dangerous Lane

**So I was skimming this story the other day where the author basically called their reviewers idiots and then threatened to stop writing if they didn't get good reviews. It was very contradictory and a bit worrisome to be honest. I just want to let you all know that I HEART the crap out of you all so very much, most especially for taking a chance on and reading my stories! **

**Also, I haven't been able to respond to your last reviews! But I will get to that in the next day or so! Thank you so much for the awesome reviews!**

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**Chapter 23: Life In the Dangerous Lane**

The first thing Santana becomes aware of when she wakes up in the morning, are residual tingles all over her body. Almost as if someone took a little ray gun and zapped different parts of her body on the lowest setting. Not enough to be painful but enough to make her _really_ feel. The second thing she notices is that she's incredibly warm. Not over heated warm, but gooey fluttering heart warm, and also, that she's lying on her stomach.

There's a soft presence that's dancing across her lower back. Dipping in the contour and running from one dimple to the other, shooting even more tingles up Santana's spine.

When she finally blinks her eyes open, she's met with bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and the most breathtaking smile she's ever witnessed in her life in the form of Brittany leaning propped up in the bed next to her. Her fingers dance up and brush softly across Santana's shoulder before reaching out to brush the long dark locks of hair that have fallen to shroud her face, away from those beautiful brown eyes.

"Morning." Brittany croaks, wincing at the way her voice comes out sounding like a strangled frog, "Shit…" She curses, eyes widening as the foul word comes out sounding even more ridiculous. Santana's soft giggles gather Brittany's attention and blue eyes glance up to see the other woman she's sharing a bed with smile so wide her dimples pop.

"Don't you just sound like a sexy Casanova in the morning."

Brittany frowns both at Santana's words and her ability to sound perfectly sexy this soon after waking up. In fact, Brittany's fairly certain that Santana sounds like she could break out into song at any damn minute and bring the fucking house down as she did. Brittany sighs, she supposes it's at least something she can look forward to in the mornings.

Santana sounding all sexy…wait, what the hell? Did Brittany just make the presumption that she and Santana would be waking up a lot together in the morning? As like an on going, predetermined thing?

"Hey, did I lose you to a fantasy? I'm still here naked in your bed, you can discuss those out loud if you want." Santana suddenly interrupts Brittany's relationshhh…her realationshhh…dammit, she can't even think the word right now. Is it because she's scared that Santana's scared that maybe she's having second thoughts about having second thoughts?

Wait, what the fuck? Brittany just confused herself even more.

"So what you're saying is you don't want me naked in your bed right now?"

Who's not going to be naked? Oh fuck, Brittany's eyes snap back to Santana, who has her eyebrows arched in concerned wonder.

"No! You can stay naked, please stay naked with me." Brittany mumbles, shuffling closer to the other woman who giggles again, and Brittany swears she hears angels singing in the background (cheesy, so sue her). A warm body slides into her own, and Brittany groans as Santana's full, soft breasts push into hers and a tan thigh slips through her legs.

"Okay, but you've gotta come back to me." Santana murmurs in Brittany's ear, her breath hot against the shell, before her palm brushes across her heated cheek and full lips tickle pink ones. Brittany nods, sighing and trying to relax herself before she leans into Santana's mouth and kisses her heatedly.

She has to get these irrational fears out of her mind. She's the one who asked Santana to be her girlfriend (which Santana said yes to) and she's the one who said 'I love you' first. Blue eyes widen again as Brittany remembers that momentary slip of character, she was so caught up in the moment she couldn't hold her walls up any longer.

She doesn't regret it, and she certainly meant it, but she's hoping that when Santana said them she really felt the same too. Brittany hopes Santana does feel the same.

Her nose nuzzles against Santana's cheek, "Hey, so about last night." She starts and Santana lets out a content hum, snuggling impossibly closer to Brittany.

"Mmmhmmm."

Brittany swallows the lump in her throat, "When I said…you know?"

Santana's eyes flicker open and blink in innocent obliviousness, "Hmmm?"

Somehow Brittany thinks Santana knows right well what she's talking about, she's just fucking with her. Fine, she can be the bigger woman. She takes a deep breath and airs it out through the side of her mouth.

"When I said…that, I love you…" Admittedly she kind of stumbles through it, but a smile pulling across Brittany's lips pushes her onward, "I really…I meant it you know?"

She barely gets the 'kn' part of know out before Santana's lips are crashing into her own and Brittany's back is being pressed into the mattress. Santana strokes her mouth deeply with her tongue before slowing the kiss down and placing a few soft pecks against Brittany's lips. The small, fiery as hell woman settles back down on top of Brittany's naked body.

"That's a really nice thing to hear," She whispers and Brittany's holds her breath while Santana tortures her with a long pause, then plump lips press into the skin above Brittany's heart, "Because I really love you too."

Everything is exhaled in one giant whoosh of air, and Brittany wraps her arms around Santana's back happy to lie there smiling in blissful, silly content.

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An hour or so later, when Brittany reawakens from the nap she hadn't realized she'd fallen into, Santana is still asleep on her chest, soft little kitten snores falling out of her mouth. Brittany chuckles because go figure that such a feisty little cat like Santana would make such adorable little mewling sounds.

Fuck did she just say? Adorable? Brittany groans, Santana is getting to her more than she originally thought. Her eyes flicker down to Santana, what's visible of her face reflecting back to Brittany is the soft light of the morning and Brittany smiles, yeah okay she's not really upset about anything Santana's done for her life.

She starts to run her fingers through the long unruly dark tresses that fall all around Santana's face as she waits for the woman to wake up. When brown eyes blink open a few minutes later, Brittany tilts her head down as best she can and kisses the crown of Santana's head.

"I thought I'd lost you to some lumberjacks."

Santana's eyes squint in confusion as she turns them up towards playful blue. Brittany flashes her a cheeky smile.

"You know, cuz you snore like one."

Santana gasps appalled and slaps Brittany in the shoulder, "I do not!" She defends and Brittany simply laughs harder, enjoying her own jest. Santana pouts for a few seconds until the soft nibbling that Brittany is supplying to her jaw line becomes too ticklish and sweet she can't stay angry anymore. She giggles as she pushes Brittany away gently, but then props her chin on her chest and looks up into blue eyes.

"You know, don't take this wrong, but last night…I didn't know you could be so sweet and caring."

Brittany rolls her eyes playfully but shrugs, "Well yeah, I've never been this in love." She says it without much thought, as if it's just so natural, but then gets a little nervous and apprehensively raises her eyes to gauge Santana's reaction. She finds twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile.

Santana cups her cheeks and leans in to capture her lips in a brief kiss, "You still mean that then, even if I snore like a lumberjack?"

A giggle pops from pink lips, "Santana, I think I'd love you even if you _were_ a lumberjack." Brittany admits, and Santana simply rolls her eyes but smiles, snuggling into her further and pressing a few choice kisses across the ledge of Brittany's jaw.

"I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever looking for a new job."

They lay there in content silence for a few minutes, Brittany's arm wrapped around Santana's shoulders and her fingers making sweeping motions up and down her arm. Her eyes tilt and focus on the adorable birthmark that presents itself on the junction of where Santana's right arm meets her shoulder. Brittany's mind tingles in remembrance of another telling mark she spotted on Santana's body recently.

"Hey Santana?"

"Hmm?"

"That scar on your lower back," Brittany starts to say, the tips of her fingers sliding down Santana's spine until they ghost over the very same mark she's inquiring about which rests on the lower left hand side of a tan back. "How did you get that…if you don't mind me asking?"

There's a few seconds of tranquility where the only sound perceivable to Brittany's ears is Santana's soft breathing, and then her voice breaks through the cloud of silence.

"Oh yeah, that's…uh…from when I was a little kid." She starts off saying, and Brittany jumps a little in her spot when she feels Santana's own fingers start tracing unexpected patterns against her ribs. She pulls the smaller woman's body closer, hoping she'll continue her story.

Santana takes in a deep breath, it's not fearful or strained, just deep in preparation, before she airs it out and begins her story, "When Hec and I were little and my parents were still alive, we lived in Miami just a couple blocks down from a really exclusive all-boys prep school. Naturally, my parents wanted my brother and I to have the very best education, and they assumed that such a revered private school would provide that, so they enrolled Hector. Since he was sixteen and I was ten, and also a girl, I wasn't allowed to attend with him."

Brittany notices Santana punctuate her last sentence with a teasing smile, and she giggles lightly understanding the woman's way of trying to lighten the mood a little. Brittany tilts to press a kiss to her temple, before Santana continues.

"My dad was a doctor so he was always at work, and my mom was a highly demanded event planner that was always flying all over the east coast to plan parties and stuff for big time people, so they weren't around as much as they wanted to be. Hec would always make sure I felt included in things. He'd take me places and let me hang out with him and his friends, even if they were so much older than me."

"It was nice because Hector was always the center of attention, and he'd always be doing the coolest things. One time, he joined this Choir group at the school and invited me to one of their practices. He was one of the more popular kids in the group, and one of the more talented, and he'd made friends with a new kid that had been bullied at his last school. Well turns out this kid, Kurt, had been bullied because he was gay, and when my brother kind of took him under his wing, well then Hector started getting jeered at, despite his popularity."

Santana shakes her head at the memory, but Brittany pulls her closer in reassurance. Another deep breath later, Santana resumes her story.

"Kurt, due mostly in part to Hector's friendship, kind of took a liking to me as well. He was two years younger than Hector, so a little closer in age to me. Well this didn't go over too well with the main bullies of the school, they eventually started hackling Kurt and myself whenever Hector wasn't around to stop them. It got so bad one time that this one guy from one of the bullying groups, pretty much the leader of them, gathered his friends around to throw slushies in Kurt's face. I was there that day and I, being my feisty little self," Brittany chuckles at Santana's words, imagining a younger version of that hard glare and locked jaw, "I thought I could step between them. Well the leader guy ended up pushing me and I stumbled back into some metal bleachers, which instantly sliced a huge gash in my back left side."

Brittany absentmindedly trails her fingers over the scar on Santana's back.

"Hector came in about that time, and prevented the jerk douche from doing anymore damage to Kurt or myself. He ended up kicking the crap out of the guy when I told Hector who had pushed and hurt me, and then both Hec and the other guy got expelled from the school. We only saw the other guy once before my parents had to move again, and even through his battered face he still swore to Hector that if he ever saw him again, he'd get his revenge. After that, Hector never left my side. He, Kurt, and myself were good friends until our parents died, and then Hec and I jumped around Miami. I don't know whatever happened to Kurt."

Brittany's mind is reeling with the information she's just heard. She never imagined Santana's life to have been so dictated by violence and bullying. She supposes it's quite the shock, considering how poised and proper Santana is sometimes, but then again she does realize that woman has got one hell of a dangerous side too. She smiles and pulls Santana close again.

"I'm sorry that happened to you and Hector, and this Kurt guy. Have you heard anything from that bully kid since then?"

Santana shakes her head in the negative, "No actually, I don't even remember his name. I want to say it was Warren or something like that…or maybe S-"

The woman's words are cut off by Brittany's front door bursting open and a high-pitched voice calling into the condo, "Listen up sleeping beauties! It's time to rise and shine!"

Brittany blinks for a second until she realizes who is standing in her doorway, "Sugar? What the actual fuck!? Get out!"

"No can do boss, there's important shit that needs to be done and your and Santana's ass need to roll on out of bed and get it done."

"Except you're missing one little tidbit of information; I'm still your boss. So whatever absurd thought gave you the crazy notion to come in here and-"

"It's not like I wanted to come in here Brittany," Sugar cuts the blonde woman off, once again much to Brittany's irritation, "Look, Holly's got some kind of intel that she wants to discuss with you. She asked me to come get you."

Pale cheeks tint an angry red, but Santana leans in and presses a kiss to the underside of Brittany's jaw, trying to ease her tension away, "Babe, it might be a good thing to talk to Holly." Brittany's eyes glance down at her girlfriend, taking a moment to comprehend her words, before she recognizes that Santana probably has a very good point.

She sighs, "Fine. Holly can have five minutes and that's it."

Sugar pumps her fists in the air in triumph, as if she knew she'd get her way all along, but makes no motion to turn around and give the woman in the bed, who are still very much naked, any privacy.

"Um Sugar, do you think you could turn around for a second."

The short petite woman dramatically rolls her eyes at her boss, "Please, not like it's anything I haven't seen before."

Brittany's eyes go wide and Santana's arch questioningly. Blonde hair whips fervently back and forth and Brittany's hands come up defensively, "She's joking! Or she's not talking about me, swear to God she's not talking about me." She affirms definitively holding her breath until Santana's eyes soften and nod at her in acceptance. Brittany's eyes shot a glare towards Sugar, who merely smirks at her boss, winks and turns so her back is facing them.

Five minutes later, Brittany is clasping Santana's hand in her own and following Sugar from her condo, both presentably dressed. They only get about ten feet before Sugar stops and informs Brittany that Holly specifically requested to talk to just Brittany.

"No offense Santana." She mentions to the Latina woman standing next to Brittany.

With reluctance, Brittany agrees and leaves Santana with a kiss. Not a minute later, Santana is approached by a steely eyed and clench jawed Quinn.

"Hey I've got something to tell you." Quinn states skipping all pleasantries (not that Santana's surprised.)

Brown eyes roll as tan arms fold across Santana's chest, "Okay, Ms Demanding, I'm listening."

#################

Brittany is very thankful that Santana joins her in the garage just a few minutes after her talk with Holly. She's disappointed she didn't get more out of the conversation, but in all fairness she did kind of walk away from Holly when the woman she once called her aunt couldn't give her any solid answers.

She just kept repeating that she 'wanted to tell Brittany, but she couldn't just yet' and well, Brittany doesn't have time for that shit right now. There are far too many other things on her mind.

Like for one, what Santana is going to do with the Cayman that they stole last night.

"Hey baby, god it's good to see you." Brittany murmurs as Santana strides over to her. Santana chuckles as Brittany wraps her up in her arms and leans back in the embrace a little.

"Britt, we just saw each other like ten minutes ago."

Brittany sighs, "Yeah I know, I'm just so stressed out and you always seem to make it better. Is it weird that I missed you in the time you weren't around me?"

Full lips press to hers passionately before an answer is husked from them, "God no, because I missed you too, and I understand."

They tinker around with a few things in the garage until Brittany pulls a distributor out of one of the spare cars and sets it on the worktable to mess around with it a little. Santana leans into her side, her arms wrapped securely around Brittany's waist, her chin propped up on Brittany's shoulder.

"So are you still okay with the plan for me to take the car back?"

Brittany nods, turning her head slightly to peck Santana's lips, "Yeah I think it's a good plan. He should know that his driver's are as good as he expects them to be, I don't want him hurting you if he doesn't think you are."

Santana cups Brittany's cheek and brushes her lips across the taller woman's, "I wouldn't let him hurt me, but I think you're right." Brittany smiles in return letting her eyes dance over Santana's stunning features before they gaze back down at the car part in front of her.

"By the way," Santana speaks up again, still softly but loud enough for Brittany to hear without diverting her concentration, "Did something else happen between you and Quinn? I thought you two were okay and everything, but you've been avoiding her and I can practically feel the animosity from a mile away." She states, shifting as Brittany does and lifting up on her tips toes to lean in closer to the woman.

A sweet kiss to the side of Brittany's neck sends a tingle through her body and she twists her head to meet brown eyes, "Naw, well I mean I don't think so. I think she's just butt-hurt again about me finally being all in charge. You'd think she would be used to it by now, it's not like I've never given orders, but it's like now she's jealous that she obviously can't defy me anymore." She explains with a shrug and then cranes her neck to capture Santana's lips.

There's a solid beat that goes by before Brittany casually adds, "Plus she might kind of be all torn up about you still, on some crazy ridiculous level."

"Me? What'd I do this time?" Santana asks indignantly, she's not so much taking it out on Brittany as just affirming the level of annoyed she is with Quinn's apparent inability to let things the fuck go.

Brittany stops her task and turns around so her and Santana are face to face, she rests her hands on the shorter woman's hips and pulls her close, placing a sweet kiss to the full and pouty lips before her.

With a soft chuckle she explains, "Really it seems like she's grasping at shit to complain about because she can't function with the amount of shit that's _actually_ going wrong. With Hunter and Finn still gone, Holly being here and all their covert conversations, the whole situation with Jesse and not to mention the fact she hasn't gotten laid in a very, very long time…"

Santana's eyebrow quirks at that information, not too entirely wanting to hear such information and Brittany's face turns sheepish.

"Sorry probably shouldn't say stuff like that," She apologizes and Santana smiles at her, "I can't get a read on what her actual deal is, but I know I'm fed up with her shit so I told her that I wouldn't talk to her until she figured it out, and properly apologized to you once and for all."

"Well sorry to say, but I agree with you on her being crazy about ridiculous stuff. Her whole attitude is kind of stressing me out."

Brittany nods before kissing Santana's lips again, "I know babe, I know and that's why I'm standing firm until she comes around, she'd better get her shit together and realize that I'm in love with you and you're not going anywhere."

Santana smiles at Brittany's words and leans in to kiss her, "I like that." She informs Brittany who smiles and blushes a little. She goes back to tinker around with the part in front of her, Santana draped over her back, with her chin resting on Brittany's shoulder again.

"By the way, did she ever apologize to you?"

Santana's brow creases as she seems to think about that question and recall a time in the past day that Quinn might have done something like that in the spare second that Santana wasn't spending with Brittany, "Oh well, she said something to me in passing when you went off to talk to Holly, I suppose it could be considered an apology."

Brittany looks to her with narrowed eyes, "Could be? Oh shit, what did she say?"

"Umm let's see…she basically told me that even though she was wrong about some things, she still has her eyes on me and the second that I step out of line 'again' she'll be sure to kick me back into it. Or something like that."

Brittany groans and drops her head, "It's worse than I thought." She mumbles before ever more quietly whispering, "My best friend hates my girlfriend."

Santana chuckles running her fingers through Brittany's hair and pressing a kiss to her clothed shoulder, "Hey, it's okay. She's shit with her approach but I recognize that she's essentially just looking out for you. I mean, I plan on doing the same thing to anyone who comes near my girlfriend with less than friendly words."

"Yeah?" Brittany asks, a quirked smile tugging at her lips as she glances at Santana.

"Oh definitely, and in the meantime," Santana begins to say before glancing around the shop, "I plan on showing said girlfriend just how serious I am about keeping her mine."

A smug grin tugs at Brittany's lips as she twists around to face Santana and pull the smaller woman tighter into her body, "I think I could get used to this." She murmurs before ducking her head down and pressing her lips to Santana's who moans at the contact and leans further into Brittany.

Brittany's tongue dips into Santana's mouth about the same time that a soft, but exceedingly annoying jingle starts playing throughout the shop. It sounds weak and muffled, almost like it's underwater or well muffled and as Brittany's palms slide down Santana's back and round over the curve of her tight jeans, she suddenly feels a vibration under her fingers tips.

"The fuck?" Brittany mumbles against Santana's lips as she pulls back from the kiss slightly.

"What?"

"Oh not you baby, I think your ass is vibrating."

Santana's eyebrow furrows and then arches as she becomes aware of her phone buzzing in her back pocket, she huffs but leans back a little in Brittany's embrace, steadying herself so she can reach around and remove it from said pocket. Without even a look at the screen, she sets it on the worktable behind Brittany's back and smiles up at the taller woman.

"There." She says before tilting up to resume the kiss she had been enjoying with her girlfriend. Brittany chuckles against Santana's lips but presses back into the kiss, welcoming Santana's tongue this time as it skims across her teeth and runs the length of her own.

"Mmm."

Brittany's second venture towards bliss is interrupted once again by a buzzing, only this time louder as Santana's phone shakes against the wood surface and makes that irritating high-pitched mixture between a buzz and a rumble. Santana sighs against Brittany's lips and grunts as she reaches out blindly and feels around for her phone until she finds the buzzing device.

Her eyes expand when she sees who is calling, and how many calls she's missed from them, "Shit, it's Jesse. He's called a lot."

Brittany twists around with Santana still in her arms until she's standing behind the woman, "Put it on speaker phone."

Santana nods and swipes her finger across the screen, "Rivera speaking."

"Maria, where the fuck are you?" Jesse's voice shouts through the other end of the line, his tone callous and unforgiving.

Santana glances at Brittany before she replies to her pseudo boss, "I'm just on my way back with the car now."

"It had better be in one piece. And if you're not back in half an hour, don't bother coming back, and don't bother staying in Vegas."

Jesse's words are followed by the telling click that he's disconnected the call from his end. Santana lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and Brittany feels her shake slightly in her arms.

"I don't like you being near him one bit Santana, I don't care if he doesn't know your real name. It's too dangerous, I can't ask you to go back."

Santana lets out a shaky breath and turns around in Brittany's arms, her lips pulled in a thin line, "You're not asking me too, and at this point it would be more dangerous if I didn't go back."

Brittany shakes her head and opens her mouth to protest but Santana cuts her off by framing her face in her hands and pulling their lips together. When she pulls back from the brief kiss she sighs, "I love you Brittany and I promise I'll come back."

A thick lump is swallowed down Brittany's throat as she wraps her arms firmly around Santana and presses a kiss to the top of her head, "You'd better because I love you too and I'm not about to lose you."

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Santana pulls the Cayman up to the fenced and gated entrance of Jesse's 'claimed' warehouse. The main guard, Nelson is his name Santana thinks, approaches the drivers side door and glances in to find a sunglasses covered Santana, flashing him a wide, and very fake smile. Nelson takes a look around the rest of the car and has Santana pop the trunk before he allows her to drive through the gates. She breathes a sigh of relief.

The truth is, despite having Jake and Brooke on her side, coming back to Jesse's scares the shit out of Santana, even though she'd never admit that to Brittany because she knows it would only worry her, and Brittany doesn't need more bad things happening. Bad things happen enough in the St. James' crew.

She's ushered through a warehouse door into a room just big enough for a car and some tool stations. It's the chop shop part of Jesse's warehouse, and after she parks the Cayman, Santana steps out of the car and is met with a stone faced Brody. She swallows the fear in her throat and walks towards the man, allowing him to wrap an arm around her waist even though her skin prickles with irritation and disgust.

Part of her cover while infiltrating the St. James crew has been pretending to be Brody's arm candy. As Jesse's right hand man, Brody is Santana's closest link to the crime boss, but she loathes every second she has to be touched by the brooding gruff of a man because Brittany will always be the only one who ever gets anything more from her.

"Nice job hot stuff, Boss will be really happy. He's wanted to bring that car in for a while." Brody speaks to Santana even though she bristles under his words, trying to fill her mind with Brittany's voice saying sweeter things, and allowing herself to take joy in that and not that man leading her through the warehouse.

They reach the main area of the building where Jesse keeps his 'office' and Brody ushers Santana into the room gesturing his head to the chair in front of the desk that Jesse is currently sitting at. Santana takes her seat and primly crosses one leg over the other.

"Ahh, dear Maria, you have returned unscathed I see, and within the time limits." Jesse greets Santana, a maniacal smirk pulling at his lips as he leans forward and lays his folded hands on the desk in front of him.

"I managed to re-obtain the Cayman after the Pierce crew had successfully stolen it." She begins to explain and Jesse's eyebrow quirks.

"Oh so it is true then? Brittany Pierce was successful in boosting the car first?"

Santana nods, she knows Jesse's not looking for anything more than that.

"We had been wondering what was taking you so long, especially since you'd assured me that you were by far the best booster in this crew. I remember you claiming you were even _better_ than Pierce." Jesse's eyebrow remains quirked in challenge, and Santana's body runs cold knowing his statement is just another test. It's a challenge of sorts, where on one end if Santana asserts her original claims she would appear to have been lying at first, but if she denies them than Jesse sees her as weak, either way it's lose/lose in St. James dangerous eyes.

She steels her features, presenting her very best bitch façade, "Look, I let Pierce steal the car first to get past the alarm system. Not because I wasn't capable, but because I had hoped that maybe she'd trip some alarm and make everything that much easier for us. Second, I followed her back to her base of operation and studied her and her crew's methods, thus giving us another advantage. And when everyone had gone off to dream land, I stole the car out from under their noses, proving your crew's superiority once again. I did you a favor."

"She has a point Jesse, it was probably the better call."

"Yeah, Pierce won't know what hit her."

Two voices simultaneously join the conversation. Santana's eyes flicker to the doorway and see Brooke enter, giving Santana the barest nod of acknowledgement, and another man whom she's never seen before but who looks strangely familiar. Both in his posture and physical features.

"Ah, Brooke my dear, always with impeccable timing." Jesse greets his 'lady' as she steps further into the office and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Santana. "And Maria, I'd like you to meet our newest member…well let's just call him Warbler for now."

The lanky man that looks very familiar to Santana takes a step further into the room, his hair spiked in the front, his eyes beady, and a impish smirk pulled across his lips. He nods in Santana's direction.

"Pleasure to meet you…Maria was it?"

Santana doesn't miss the skeptical edge that laces this man's tone, but she nods nonetheless, "That's right." She replies, forgoing shaking his hand. It's the more proper thing to do in Jesse's crew anyway. Warbler simply smirks wider and leans back against the door, his tall lean frame fitting against it perfectly as he shoves his hands in his blue business suit pockets.

"So Maria, while I will agree that you have a very good point, we are faced with quite the conundrum now." Jesse speaks up and Santana's eyes flash back to his, arching in question.

Jesse's maniacal smile grows wider as he brings his hands, pushed together as if praying, and rests them just below his chin, "If you've bested what was considered our top competition, how are we to recruit them now?"

Santana's eyes go wide for a moment, before Brooke cuts in, "Actually Jesse, I was thinking about that too. I think I have a pretty good idea of what we can do." She says, turning back to face the curly haired boss before providing her plan.

Santana sits, counting the seconds down until she can be safely in Brittany's arms again.

###################

Brittany hears Santana before she sees her girl, a smile crossing her face as she rushes out of the garage to greet the Agent Orange Nissan as it pulls up onto the concrete just in front of the shop door. But almost immediately, Brittany realizes something isn't right.

She rushes to Santana's side, opening the door to find a distraught and on the brink of tears Santana.

"Jesus, what the fuck did he do to you? I'll kill him."

Santana shakes her head, "We have to go inside to talk, and you have to act like we aren't cordial. I think he sent someone to follow me this time, so it's not safe talking out in the open."

Brittany nods and steps back, allowing Santana to step from the car, folding her arms over her chest in an effort not to reach out and hold her. She gestures towards the shop and Santana nods, following Brittany there. When they get into cover, Santana wraps her arms around Brittany and kisses her deeply, taking the taller woman by surprise and causing her to fall back slightly with a grunt.

She manages to catch her balance before they fall much further than the couch in the shop, and even then Santana's lips don't detach from Brittany's as her full body weight rests on top of the woman. A few minutes of Santana's lips brushing across pink lips and Santana's tongue snaking out and tangling with Brittany's, they break from the kiss with a wet smack and a whimpered moan.

"Fuck Santana, not that I don't appreciate that greeting, but what's going on?"

Santana sighs, "Well Jesse's offered you another challenge."

"I don't give a crap about that guy. I'm asking if you're okay." Brittany says as she cups Santana's cheeks and looks into her eyes. Santana nods and pecks Brittany's lips again.

"I'm definitely better. It's a good thing Jake and Brooke are there with me, because Jesse's a psycho. He was pissed that you'd stolen the car first, but at the same time happy about the notion. Brooke ended up proposing another challenge for the Pierce crew, or rather just you, because he really wants to see your skills in person and deem you worthy enough." Santana explains, air quoting the last words.

Brittany's eyebrow furrows, "Okay so what's he going to have me do? Race again? Boost something else? Kick his manservant in the face?"

Santana chuckles at Brittany's utter dislike of Brody, she doesn't blame her but shakes her head, "Actually it's something a lot more domesticated, well at least in terms of crime. But I think you'll like it."

"Oh?"

"He wants to challenge you in a poker game. Just you and him playing, and if you beat him, he partners with you and you're in."

Brittany smirks at Santana's words, "Really? Poker in Vegas? Wow, that's original." She states with an eye roll and Santana chuckles before Brittany continues, "I can take that asshole."

After a moment, Brittany's eyes turn serious, as she shifts her and Santana so they are lying on their sides, face-to-face on the couch and asks, "He's not hurting you is he?" concern written all over her face.

Santana shakes her head. "No. I'm just there as arm candy for Brody."

Blue eyes narrow at this but Santana reassures Brittany with a kiss, "I just stand next to him and have to listen to his irritating droning." She explains before leaning in to connect their lips.

"Good," Brittany mumbles against Santana's lips as she pulls back, "Because if anyone so much as touches what's mine I'll go Rambo on their ass's."

Santana smiles before leaning in and kissing her again. "He won't, and you won't have to. But it's super hot knowing you would."

* * *

**What does it all mean? I don't know…you tell me! No really, I'm really interested to know what you think is happening. Thanks y'all as per usual! Till next time.**

**Also I'm going to shamelessly plug about my other story: There's No One Else Like Me, it's a fascinating story about a shy!Brittany and adorable!Santana, getting to know each other and possibly falling in love. You should check it out...if you want! **


	24. The Cryptic Wheels We Leave Behind

**Warning:** Sexy times

**Chapter 24: The Cryptic Wheels We Leave Behind**

Santana wakes up in the morning to a feeling she's becoming quite accustomed to; Brittany pressed firmly into her back as her long slender arms wrap around Santana's waist and hold her close.

The previous night had ended up going quite well once Santana was in Brittany's arms, and Jesse's unpredictable rage was no longer something she worried about. After she'd told Brittany his challenge, Brittany had called Sugar in and told her to drive back to Santana's house in Santana's car until the morning, in case whoever was trailing Santana got suspicious of anything.

While Sugar did that, Brittany carried Santana to her condo and allowed her to rest for a few hours until she gathered the Pierce and Lopez crews together to go over the new situation for everything.

It was understood that Brittany would be the only one prepping for the poker challenge, but everyone else around the shop would still be expected to pull their own weight. Meaning, cars were still being boosted and turned around for a profit, but it was to be done discreetly, as Rory and David had captured police radio chatter that the police were keeping an even closer eye on the Pierce crew's running's.

After the group had dispersed for the evening, Brittany had returned to her condo and Santana, climbing into bed with the woman and pulling her close. It hadn't taken long for Santana to wake up and push Brittany onto her back, intent on showing the taller woman just how grateful she was to have her.

They traded positions through much of the night, and only collapsed onto the bed, and into each other, after complete exhaustion took over and they were able to peacefully slip into a happy slumber.

Which brings Santana back to right now, waking up in Brittany's arms in Brittany's bed in Brittany's house. The sweet smell of fresh breeze with undertones of motor oil and grease surrounding her senses as it wafts off of Brittany's skin. Santana takes a deep breath and snuggles in further to warm soft chest behind her, Brittany's pale breasts pushing further into her back. Santana sighs contently.

A few moments later, Brittany's fingers reach up and languidly stroke through Santana's tangled hair, and Santana shuffles around to face the blonde who she finds chuckling softly.

"Are you laughing at me?"

That just makes Brittany chuckle more, the force of her vibrating laughs causing her chest to shake Santana's body even as she drops her cheek to Brittany's bare chest. Plump lips turn into pale skin and press teasing kisses along the swell of the supple flesh. Brittany sucks in a sharp breath.

"Hell no baby, I'm just thinking about last night."

Santana giggles softly in return, her own body shivering involuntarily as memories flash through her mind.

"Hmm, it was a good night."

"It was a great night. I haven't been that flexible since…." Brittany trails off when Santana's eye glance up at her, one eyebrow arched in challenge for Brittany to actually finish that thought. Pale cheeks flush pink and Brittany quickly clears her throat, "I've _never_ been that flexible."

A satisfied smirk crosses Santana's lips as she leans up to kiss the underside of Brittany's jaw, "Yeah? Me neither."

They fall back into content silence before a knocking on the door breaks their tranquility. Brittany sighs, glancing apologetically at Santana before sitting up slightly in the bed to shout towards the door.

"Who the hell is it and it better be good!"

There's no answer, which would normally irritate Brittany further but instead she shrugs her shoulders and returns to admiring the naked tan skin of Santana's body that is not being covered up unjustly by the sheets. Brittany furrows her eyebrows and smirks as she reaches out and draws the cotton material further down Santana's body until just the swells of her gloriously delectable full breasts are on display.

Santana's eyebrow is arched in interest as she watches Brittany lifts her poised lips to the skin just above the tan mounds on Santana's chest. An exploring pink tongue pokes out and glides across the smooth surface, tasting a mixture of sweet and salty and something so decidedly Santana the Brittany's heart shifts around in her chest at the discovery.

She lifts her head back up to taste Santana's lips and discovers another uniquely delicious taste, "Mmm, I like that." Brittany mumbles against Santana's lips as she shifts closer to the woman and her hand dips under the sheet to smooth around the curve of Santana's hip and settle on the curve between her back and toned ass. Everything is pretty perfect in Brittany's world, because there's nothing else for her to care about than the stunning beauty who's is laying naked on top of her.

And yet.

There's another pounding on the door, this one much more forceful and reverberating, the echo making a flutter spread through the walls nearest the door.

"Jesus," Brittany groans, "Who the fuck is it?!" She turns to yell towards the door again.

"Maybe you should just go check?" Santana suggests when again no answer is given. Brittany sighs but nods, she presses a kiss to Santana's lips before she slips out from under her and out of the bed. She glances over to find brown eyes regarding her in unabashed desire as Santana bites her lip. Brittany chuckles and reaches down to grab a few basic items of clothing to toss on her body.

"Better be careful, your face could stay that way if you stare to long." She jokes, sending a wink in Santana's direction before pulling on her jeans and lose tank top and padding over to the front door barefoot as she runs a hand through her somewhat of a mess golden locks.

Yanking the door open with a scowl on her face, Brittany utters out a "What?" Before she even focuses on what's laid out before her. When she does, her heart almost falters from the shock of it.

Santana, who has been watching Brittany from the bed, realizes the drastic change in posture that comes over her girlfriend as soon as she opens the door. From slouched and relaxed to terrified stiff, she shifts from the bed and pulls a pair of sleep shorts and a loose top on before tossing her hair up in a messy bun and walking over to join Brittany at the door.

"Brittany? What is it?" She asks in a quiet whisper so as to not startle the other woman as she steps up behind her and tentatively wraps her arms around Brittany's waist, feeling the taller woman relax minutely in her embrace. Santana tilts up on her tiptoes to examine whatever it is that has Brittany so entrapped.

Her forehead creases in confusion as all she sees is a set of keys hooked to a Spearmint Rhino keychain and laid out dubiously on the concrete walkway area directly in front of Brittany's condo.

"What are those?"

Brittany makes no commitment to reply. Instead, she takes a step forward, slipping out of Santana's grasp in the process, and scoops the keys up from the concrete. With a quick glance around the area Brittany backs up into the condo with a pained expression covering her face. She slams the door behind her and makes her way across the room and into the kitchen, leaving Santana standing confused and even more worried than she was before.

Santana rubs her hands against her arms in an attempt to dispel the eerie chill that's overcome them before she heads towards the kitchen after Brittany. If the woman needs her space, she'll give it to her, but she'd at least like a little hint about what's going on. Upon entering the kitchen area, she finds Brittany rummaging through the drawers that line the cabinets and counter, shuffling paper and other junk around in search of something specific.

She's about to ask Brittany if she can help with anything when her phone starts chiming back in the bedroom area. Santana swallows the question that was resting on the tip of her tongue and wanders towards Brittany's bed, noticing Jesse's name and number flashing across the screen of her phone. With a heavy sigh she answers it.

After a very brief, and almost completely one sided, conversation Santana hangs up with Jesse and lets her hand drop to her side with the phone still intact.

"What did he want?" Brittany's voice coming from behind her makes Santana jump a little bit. She turns around to find blue eyes reflecting a sense of frustration and aggravation, even though the emotions are not directed towards her.

"He was telling me where he wants you to meet him for the poker challenge."

Brittany nods before Santana finishes the sentence, having already had a thought about what St. James was going to say.

"Let me guess, the Spearmint Rhino?"

Santana's eyebrow knits in surprise but she nods, "Yeah…how did you-"

"Lucky guess." Brittany answers with a bitter laugh, running her hand through hair and shaking her head as she mumbles almost incoherently, "Bastard's trying to taunt me."

"How?" Santana asks, desperate to know about what's bothering Brittany so that she can possibly help. But Brittany remains silent, her jaw locked and her eyes glazed with anger.

Santana walks over to her and reaches out to grasp Brittany's hands in her own. She wraps them around her waist and steps into the taller woman, her hands coming up to frame a pale neck as she places a brief kiss to Brittany's clenched jaw line, relaxing her if only enough.

"Jesse's a manipulator, he was that way when Hector decided to work with him. Even though I told him Jesse was bad news and he was risking a lot, he still did it and then he got caught and the rest of the Libre Albedrío had to bail in order to escape retaliation from Jesse, and now here we are having to face him again regardless of the fact he doesn't even know who we are." Santana explains, feeling her own pulse pick up slightly as she reexamines just how dangerous of a situation they're all in, "The point is Brittany, whatever his plans, you still have your crew and you still have me and mine, and we're here to back you up no matter what. We're in this together to take Jesse St. James down once and for all."

A contemplative look flashes across Brittany's face and she takes a step back from Santana, "Maybe you're right, but there's still a lot of room for error. I need to go find Holly to see if she'll tell me anything." She starts to say as she completely removes herself from Santana's proximity as she changes the subject, "Do you have to meet up with him?" The question is bitter and laced with resentment.

Santana knows it's not completely directed at her but that doesn't make it any less hurtful, she folds her arms across her chest, "He wants me to be with his crew when he goes to the strip club, but either way let me remind you, Brittany, that this was partially your decision and plan too. I realize that you're angry and upset at some things, but I'm your girlfriend, not your psychiatrist out to get you so don't pull the cold treatment on me. Just remember that."

She allows her words to sink in for a few seconds before she grabs the things she'll need and turns towards the door. Flinging it open, Santana glances back over her shoulder.

"You can come find me when you're done with whatever it is you need to do, until then I'm going to take care of some of my own things." She calls out before she turns and exits Brittany's home, leaving a very pensive looking Brittany standing in the middle of her living room wondering what the hell just happened.

#################

Ten minutes later, after being not finding Holly or Quinn, and not getting any answers from her crew about their whereabouts, Brittany finds herself in her shop. The keychain and set of keys she was 'gifted' to her earlier is clutched in her hand as she sits in the seat of her Boss and thinks about things, particularly how she wasn't able to come fully clean with Santana about how she knew where the keychain is from.

But when things get tough, Brittany's known to do two things. One, become ridiculously stubborn and hard to handle, and two, hurtfully, and regretfully, lash out at those she loves, sometimes doing even more damage in the process.

Call it a product of her dysfunctional upbringing.

When you grow up with a mother who loathes the thought of you and a father too blinded by his own ambitions and wayward love to notice you, you start to become things that you never wanted to be. Throw in the abandonment of said mother, and untimely and unexpected death of said father, at a tender adolescent age in the mix of a dangerous lifestyle and you tend to get hard shelled individuals like Brittany, whose many layers of complexity are ridiculously hard to handle, even by the best of intentions people.

Still, Santana's driven right into Brittany's heart and she has yet to let go. In fact, Brittany finds that Santana not only come in and crashed through all of her walls, but she's easily taken off with the one thing that Brittany never thought she'd have enough of to give away. Her fucking heart, and all the love that she never thought possible to exist that rests within it.

And Brittany's an idiot for _ever_ trying to dispel that undisputable fact for even a brief second by denying Santana the simple truth.

"Hey boss, mind if I join you?"

Brittany is surprised to find Sugar walk carefully into the garage space. The woman is still quite a mystery to Brittany, as well as most of the rest of the gang besides apparently Quinn. One second Sugar will be an egotistical spoilt daddy's girl and the next she'll be spouting knowledge like you wouldn't believe. She's a complete enigma, but she's still very much a part of Brittany's crew, and Brittany's always held a little bit of a soft spot for her.

"Sure Sugs, just don't touch anything." Brittany says as she exits the Boss and walks around to sit on the hood of the car. Sugar rolls her eyes but nods stepping over and jumping up onto the hood next to Brittany.

"So I know you're probably stressing out about this whole Jesse's crew thing but you should know we've all got your back, always." Brittany smiles her thanks to the rookie member of her crew, but it never reaches her eyes. At this point, Jesse and his crew are honestly the least of her worries.

"But that's not what's troubling you is it?" Sugar's astounding perception baffles Brittany once again as blue eyes flicker towards the smaller woman in curiosity and wonder. It takes a moment but Brittany finally shakes her head in the negative. Sugar just quirks an inquisitive eyebrow as if to say 'Well go on and elaborate'.

Brittany sighs, "I found these this morning, outside my door," She explains, holding the keychain up for Sugar to see. She can tell that the other woman has absolutely no clue what it means, hell Brittany's not even sure what exactly it means. "It's keys to a backroom at a strip club downtown."

Sugar's eyes go wide at this information, "But you're with Santana! Why would you go to a strip club?!" She immediately accuses. Brittany rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"I don't want to go to the strip club Sugar, it's where Jesse is choosing to host his lame poker 'challenge' thing that's supposed to finally get me in his crew when I kick his ass."

"Oh," Sugar responds, her head bobbing up and down a few times, "Well then what's the problem?"

It's not that she doesn't want to answer, it's just that Brittany knows she'll sound ridiculous when she does, but alas she needs to discuss it with someone and Sugar's the closest person she's got that could layer any kind of understanding on her issues.

Running a hand through her hair, Brittany starts to explain "I don't actually know," Well maybe she doesn't really explain so much as fumble through her sentences, "I guess…the Spearmint Rhino's where my mom worked." She finally gets the words out, and thankfully Sugar refrains from dramatic reactions, "And when I saw the keychain this morning I kind of zoned out of everything else, but mostly I excluded Santana from my thoughts and I couldn't even tell her the truth."

"So basically you reverted to 'doesn't give a shit' Brittany?"

Brittany's brow furrows, "When you put it that way, it sounds a lot worse."

"Look, boss, I know that your childhood wasn't as fortunate as mine," Brittany narrows her eyes at Sugar, insinuating she's pushing her limits, brown eyes roll in true Sugar Motta fashion, "Look I know, that's harsh but I don't mean it like that. I just mean, everyone in this crew knows you didn't have the best childhood, we don't judge you for it but we do realize that it changes your attitude and personality every once and a while."

That's actually…pretty accurate.

"The thing is, even though Santana hasn't been around you that long, she still kind of knows what's up with you. But she's got her own gigantic baggage issues too, which I'm sure you two have discussed, so she can deal but it still hurts a little when you're an abrasive bitch."

"Jesus Sugar, you're sounding a lot less sweet today."

"Whatever, you know I'm right," Brittany has no argument for that statement.

"What I'm trying to say is that Santana is one of those people in your life that comes around only once. You'll probably continue to be you towards her and she'll probably continue to surprise you because sometimes the people you least expect to have an impact on you do, and sometimes the people you didn't think could surprise, do so more than you could've imagined. I think it was Plato that once said something about Zeus splitting people in two so they'd have to search the Earth for their other halves, but when they found them everything would fall into place."

Brittany blinks a few times, she might have got lost in the speech a little. "Okay so what exactly are you saying about Santana?"

"Who said I was saying anything about Santana?"

"Whaaaa?"

"Ha just kidding, I was totally talking about Santana," Sugar says with a wink, and Brittany's starting to think that these 'people who you didn't think would surprise you, end up doing so more than you could have imagined' is a very decent description of the vibe Brittany's getting from Sugar.

"Look," Sugar speaks up again, "Do you truly love Santana?"

There's not even any hesitation before Brittany responds, "Yes, absolutely without a doubt."

"Would you die for her?"

"A thousand times over if it meant she'd be safe." Again, there's very little consideration.

Sugar nods, standing up and walking around to pose right in front of Brittany, "Good, out of everything I've seen between you two I'd think it was safe to say that you've found your other half with Santana." She says resolutely, Brittany opens her mouth to inquire about something but Sugar quickly cuts her off, "Now, I think you should get your head out of your ass, go to this reminiscent strip club to let that ghost go, beat Jesse St. Sucks at his own preposterous challenge, and tell Santana you're sorry for being an ass hat bitch and you can't promise you'll never do it again, but you need her to know you'll always love her even if you do."

Brittany has never experienced having her jaw fall to the ground, with the exception of seeing Santana naked for the first time, and she doesn't really know what to do about it. Seriously, what the hell just happened? She shakes her head when she finally realizes that despite an enormous go around, Sugar actually has a point.

"Sugar, where the hell did you come up with all that stuff?"

Sugar merely shrugs, "There are a few things still you don't know about me Pierce."

#################

Santana's never been a fan of strip clubs. It's not that she doesn't enjoy the entertainment or have an insane amount of respect for the women who work there, it's more that she really _really _despises the men that flood the establishments, because more often than not, they are not very women respectful men.

She sticks close to Brooke's side walking at Jesse's right, as Brody strolls along at Santana's right. They arrived at the Spearmint Rhino some twenty minutes ago, and after a brief discussion with the owner, they were escorted into a private backroom. They were to sit and wait for Brittany's arrival.

Brittany, that was someone that Santana hadn't heard from since this morning when she'd left Brittany's condo, and it's now bordering on eight p.m.

"Maria, darling, will you be so kind as to wait for our dear Pierce in the club, in case she uses the front door. I have a feeling she should be showing up any minute now." Jesse suddenly requests, glancing in Santana's direction and she is all too eager to do as he asks in this particular case.

"Of course." She concedes, bowing her head briefly before going back out into the main area of the club and waiting for Brittany. She doesn't have to wait long.

As Brittany strides into the club wearing a simple pair of dark curve hugging jeans and a plain white t-shirt, she's not expecting to suddenly see the most stunning sight in the world, but she does.

There off a little ways in the distance, searching for someone as well, stands Santana dressed in a head to toe sexy as all else white suit. Her hair looks to be modeled after those Lucky Strike girls from back in the 30's, all crimped and curled perfectly in place to frame her gorgeous face, smoky eye makeup, and dark lipstick. Brittany swallows the lump of appreciation that floats to her throat before nervously wiping her now sweaty palms on her jeans and heading in Santana's direction.

The closer she gets, the more she appreciates Santana's choice of outfit for the evening. The jacket is trimmed in black, the lapels flared more heavily, and paired with a simple button up black blouse underneath. The slacks are tailored to fit perfectly, flowing down her body, and her hands are adorned with exaggerated silver rings.

"Hey." Brittany greets as she gets closer to Santana, noticing the way a smile quickly adorns her face before it falls into one of disappointment, and Brittany can guess what that's all about. She reaches out and gently grasps Santana's wrist before tugging her into a secluded booth off to her right and drawing the current behind them to give them even more privacy. She releases Santana's hand when they get inside.

"I'm sorry." Brittany whispers out, her eyes a pleading blue as she gazes towards her girlfriend. Santana on the other hand, remains unresponsive, instead standing up statue straight and folding her arms over her chest. The look on her face is skeptical, but there's evidence that she's waiting for Brittany to continue and explain.

"This morning, I'm sorry about pulling back and everything." Brittany says and a little of the tension in Santana's body noticeably expels, "This place, it's where my mom worked so I kind of have some pent up unresolved feelings and issues with it, and when I got that keychain I just kind of shut down a little because I didn't want to deal."

Santana deflates a little more, and uncrosses one arm reaching out to place it gently against Brittany's bicep, "Brittany, I never expect you to explain everything to me. I'm not a demanding need to know it all, but at the very least you need to tell me that 'Hey this is what's kind of bothering me right now, and I'll probably withdraw a little' and I can give you space. If that's what you want or need, I can do that."

"But honestly that's the last thing I want. Santana you make things like that easier to deal with. You make the shitty stuff not so shitty. I just need to learn how to better approach the subjects I don't really want to deal with."

"And I can be patient while you do that, as long as I have some idea about what's going on but I won't be treated like a throwaway whenever you get a little emotional about stuff."

Brittany nods, "You are not a throw away to me. I can keep you better informed. I don't want to do something silly and lose you."

Santana shakes her head and steps even closer to Brittany, cupping her cheeks in her hands and planting a firm kiss to her lips, "It would take a lot for that to happen. Don't worry, I'm in this and I want to be with you. I'm not about to go anywhere unless you don't want me here."

"I want you here. I always want you."

A soft smile pulls at Santana's lips, "Okay then," She says kissing Brittany again, "How about you go win a poker challenge then so we can get out of here?"

Brittany smiles back and nods, "Yes ma'am."

They exit the booth and head off in the direction that Jesse and the rest of his gang went, Brittany slipping in first and Santana heading towards the restroom as a cover.

##############

It all comes down to this. Some ten rounds of play by Jesse's rules poker and a constant reference to the place they're in, and Brittany's finally at the end of her rope for everything. The final round, the do or die, if she wins then she's in with Jesse and the asshole will finally stop taunting her about her past and she can finally take Santana in her arms.

Just one more hand and if she wins, Jesse will leave her alone for now.

Brittany lays her last hand down, her face a stoic mask of indifference. She stares straight ahead into the ghostly eyes of Jesse St. James, waiting for him to ultimately lay down her fate.

It's always in fate's hands isn't it?

"Well it looks like," Jesse starts to say, giving one more glance at his hand before a malicious smirk pulls across his lips, "You and me are partners."

Inwardly Brittany breathes a sigh of relief, she can see the way Santana's body subtly deflates from its previous rigid stature, and she turns back to Jesse with a nod.

"Sounds like a plan to me. So, where do we go from here?"

The smirk on Jesse's lips transforms into a full blown cocky grin at Brittany's words, "How about you let me do the planning, but I'll be in touch…Pierce." He tells her standing from her seat. He takes a few steps away, his posse following close behind, before he stops and turns back to look at Brittany.

"In the meantime," Jesse starts to say, giving a sideways glance to Santana who lags a little behind, "How about I have Maria here be part of your initiation. I remember the two of you got rather cozy once before back at my warehouse party, I'd say it's about time that you reunite a little. She can fill you in on everything. Is that clear, Rivera?"

Santana turns to Jesse with a simple look of apathy, playing it all off "Yeah boss, I can handle that."

"But boss," Brody suddenly cuts in, the prospect of loosing his arm candy to Brittany Pierce completely unflattering to him, his face morphs into one that would normally be present on that of a temper tantrum toddler, "Maria and I, we're like a thing."

Brittany's hackles rise at Brody's words, and only a subtle shake of the head from Santana prevents her from beating the shit out of Brody. She waits for Jesse to give Brody, Santana, and herself a cursory glance before he shrugs.

"She'll be alright for a few days Brody, now let's get back to the warehouse. We've got things to plan." He states, leaving no room for argument, "And Pierce, make sure you stay close to Maria, she'll be your line to me."

A solitary nod from Brittany is given before Jesse and the rest of his crew departs. As they walk out the door of the private room, Santana slumps into the large poker chair on the opposite side of Brittany, huffing out a relieved sigh. Brittany watches in amusement as Santana leans forward in the chair and snatches Jesse's discarded cigar from the ashtray, pulling it to her lips and pretending to take a puff. Her eyes slant towards Brittany in seductive regard, and that taller woman swears Santana is undressing her with her eyes.

Speaking of undressing, "You look pretty stunning in that suit, but I think it'd look even better on the floor."

Santana raises an eyebrow as she sets the cigar back down, "Oh? And what makes you think that you'll just get these clothes off of me?"

Brittany grins, she set Santana right up for that one, "I'll play you for them."

###############

Not even five minutes later, Santana finds herself losing her second hand and having to remove her blouse and toss it next to her already discarded jacket. She watches as Brittany's eyes stare appreciatively at her as the bronzed smooth skin of her shoulders, arms, and stomach are exposed and she's left in her white suit slacks and black lace push up bra.

Another five minutes go by and Santana finds herself peeling off her slacks as she props her silver stilettoed feet up on the poker table, immediately distracting Brittany.

"You're cheating."

Brittany chuckles but her eyes don't leave their focus on Santana's succulent curves, "No, I'm using my talents to my advantage. Exceptional players always use any means necessary to win. That's what makes them exceptional."

Santana eyes her suspiciously from across the table, "I still think you're cheating." Brittany merely smiles but offers no reply as they shuffle and deal the next hand. When Santana's ready she lays down a full house triumphantly, thinking that she's finally bested Brittany and won't have to shed another article of her own clothing, yet.

Instead, she watches Brittany smile coyly as she rises from her chair and glides over to Santana's position stepping between her legs as she leans over until she's an inch from her face. She sets her cards down on the table and Santana's gets a glance at them.

"Four of a kind, and look at that it's all the Aces." Brittany says before her eyes flicker down to Santana's chest, her breasts still restricted in their lace confines. "Shall I help you with that?" Brittany inquires and Santana rolls her eyes.

"Just because you won that hand, doesn't mean I'm incompetent in removing my own clothes. Besides that, I still have three items of clothing left to go, so you haven't quite won the game."

Brittany merely smiles wider before she shifts her hands down to the curve of Santana's ass and effortlessly hoists the woman into the air, twisting to deposit her on top of the poker table, instantly scattering the chips and cards about. Santana lets out a little squeal at the action, but her eyes instantly darken when she takes in Brittany's predatory gaze.

"You know what I really don't like Santana?" Brittany asks as her hands skirt along the woman's ribs and curl around to the clasp of her bra, unsnapping it and dragging it slowly down tan arms until Santana's generous full breasts are exposed to darkened blue eyes, "I don't like when some slimey jerkass claims that _my_ girlfriend is 'his'." She husks stepping between Santana's legs further after she spreads them wide.

Santana swallows what little saliva she has left in her mouth, Brittany's possessive tone and animalistic gaze driving her all kinds of crazy turned on. She licks her lips and pulls the bottom one between her teeth as Brittany leans in and strokes her tongue up the column of her neck. Santana shutters.

"You're mine, Santana, right?"

A nod is given before Brittany sucks on Santana's throbbing pulse point and elicits a "Yes, Brittany, I'm yours." from the woman.

Brittany smiles against the skin, "You mean so much to me." She breathes out as her hands fit on Santana's hips and hold her close.

Brittany's mouth fits over Santana's and her tongue licks into her mouth, drawing a moan from the smaller woman before pale and sure hands slip around to palm Santana's ass before sliding up the contours of her spine and drawing her bare chest into Brittany's clothed one.

The kiss breaks with a wet pop, and Brittany smiles down at Santana, "Did I tell you how insanely sexy you looked in that outfit?" She asks, pressing a kiss to Santana's eyelid before trailing them down to the tip of her nose. Santana's fingers splay out at the base of Brittany's skull, blunt nails scarping and tugging against blonde hair as she giggles out a response.

"And _you_ looked exceptionally sexy when you kicked Jesse's ass in poker." Brittany smiles into Santana's skin when she hears those words, and her lips glide down to slip across the ledge of a tan jaw. She works her way down Santana's neck as her hands ghost back around and tickle over Santana's stomach, the tips of Brittany's fingers following the muscles as the twitch under her touch.

Santana moans again, fisting Brittany's hair when she feels moist pink lips presses kisses across her right breast and a sure palm firmly cups her left. Brittany's tongue circles around Santana's darker areola before flicking against her nipple and earning another moan. She wraps her lips around the bud and sucks before pulling her mouth back from the skin with a satisfied wet smack.

She can feel the way Santana is practically vibrating in her arms as she purses her lips and blows a stream of cool air across the moist skin of a tan breast, feeling Santana's fingers grip firmer at her hair. Brittany smiles and tilts her eyes up to Santana's flushed with arousal face, her right hand still kneading at the flesh in her palm.

"So sexy."

The words cause Santana to squirm a little in her spot, her panties dampening even further as her heart races against her ribcage. Under half hooded eyes she finally begs "P-please…" her fingers flexing in their grip upon Brittany's hair, as her brown eyes darken with lust.

Brittany studies Santana and the way her pulse races at the side of her neck, her chest heaves up and down, and her hips roll subtly where they rest on the poker table. She leans in and captures Santana's lips in another kiss, easily sliding into the other woman's mouth and moaning when their tongues connect. Brittany rubs her palm over Santana's nipple one last time before her hands fall to the woman's hips.

Neither woman eases up on the kiss, even as a whimper escapes Santana's mouth at she feels Brittany hook her fingers into the sides of her black lace panties and start peeling them down her legs. Brittany gets them to Santana's bent knees and gravity does the rest, slipping the garment down and off of smooth bronzed legs before her palms glide up the muscled thighs beneath her hands and her lips smack against Santana's.

After a few seconds of Brittany's hands wandering and softly caressing the skin under her fingertips, she breaks the kiss smiling when Santana gives her a whine of protest. She pecks those now swollen full lips once before suddenly shifting to a squatting position, her face leveled directly between Santana's legs. Brittany groans when her eyes peruse thoughtfully over Santana's smooth, wet sex, the scent that invades her senses intoxicating in the best way.

"B-Britt…" Santana's plead is breathless, and who the hell is Brittany to deny her? With a wicked smile, she leans in and gives a gentle swipe of her tongue at the top of Santana's drenched folds, immediately causing the body in front of her to quiver almost violently.

"_Ungh…te deseo_…" Brittany's not exactly sure on the translation, but the way the words practically ooze sex and slip from Santana's lips, that's enough for her. She opens her mouth fully and slides her tongue through Santana's folds, brushing the tip against Santana's throbbing clit before sucking the nub into her mouth and swirling her tongue around and across it as her hands wrap around Santana's legs and hold her in place.

When Brittany releases Santana's clit from her mouth and strokes her tongues back and forth through her wet folds, Santana gasps, pants, and moans out broken expletives and pieces of Brittany's name almost incoherently as her hips roll further into Brittany's mouth, searching for that one thing that she hasn't quite gotten. She continues to run her tongue up and down Santana, spreading and tasting her arousal, until she feels the woman shaking under her palms.

"_Ugh _god_, yes_!" Santana cries out when Brittany's tongue finally slips to her entrance and pushes deep inside, as far as she can go before sliding back out, only to do it again even faster the next time, "Oh B-Bri.._oh _that…_uh_ y-you're…so g-good!"

Moans continue to tumble out of Santana as Brittany continues to fuck her with her tongue until her hips are thrashing wildly, her legs are trembling unsteadily, and Brittany can feel Santana's walls starting to clench around her tongue. Brittany pulls her tongue out of Santana, and glances up to a frustratingly flushed faced woman who groans her disapproval. Brittany smirks and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before rising back to her full height.

She bends slightly to tuck her mouth and nose into the side of Santana's neck, where she whispers against the skin.

"I'm going to hold you when you fall apart in my arms." At the same time that she slips two fingers through Santana's wetness and pushes them inside of her. Santana squeaks at the feeling of Brittany's fingers sinking inside of her, her walls pulsing around the digits. Her legs wrap around Brittany's back and pull her close, trapping the hand between them as Brittany starts pumping in and out of her and Santana finds Brittany's lips as something to hold onto as she's slowly pushed to ecstasy.

"_Oh_ baby…_fuck!_" Santana moans out as Brittany curls her fingers deeper inside of her and her hips start to grind against the back of her hand to push her fingers knuckle deep with each thrust. Her mind's going hazy with the sound of Santana's moans spilling hotly in her ear, and the feeling of Santana's wet warmth squeezing her fingers with every pump of her fingers.

Brittany pushes Santana higher and higher, her lips nipping at the skin of a tan neck, her other hand kneading Santana's breasts, her palm bumping Santana's clit at every inward thrust until she feels Santana's body shaking in her arms, her hips rolling erratically to meet every thrust of Brittany's fingers, and her walls suddenly clamp tightly around the curling digits as Brittany brushes that spot inside of her and sends Santana's orgasm crashing through her.

Her name falls from Santana's lips in a broken moan, her head tilted back in pleasure. And Brittany's far too focused on easing her fingers in and out of Santana and pressing light kisses on her shoulder to draw her down from her high, to recognize the sound of cracking wood and failing stability.

Before either woman knows what's happening, the table collapses underneath Santana and they find themselves falling in a heap together onto the ground, and what's left of the table. Luckily, Brittany braces the majority of Santana's fall by holding onto her and gently slips her fingers out of the woman as they both recover from the shock of it and start giggling at the occurrence.

"Shit, you broke the table San."

Santana giggles but slaps Brittany's shoulder in admonishment, "_You_ broke the table when you fucked me into oblivion."

"Well I didn't mean that _you_ broke the table, I meant that your powerful orgasm must have caused its demise." Brittany retorts with a wink as she shifts to hover above the woman, now slightly disappointed she never got the chance to get naked. She sighs as she glances down the length of a gorgeous tan body before smiling and leaning down to kiss Santana's lips.

Brittany shuffles back and raises Santana into a sitting position before she notices something peeking out by the woman's ass. She chuckles and points to it.

"Look babe, you've got my Ace of Heart's attached to your backside. It's like I'm the Ace of your Heart. Right? Get it?"

Santana rolls her eyes at Brittany's jesting before she glances down and sees that her girlfriend's right. She realizes that the smug attitude that Brittany is displaying is not going to go away anytime soon. Well, at least she got a fantastic orgasm out of it.

"Whatever you say baby. Now how about you take me back to yours, Ace, before anyone around here comes in and sees us."

**##### Line Break #####**

**Well hey there! Welcome to Faster Friday's, and thanks for joining me. I hope you enjoyed this week's installment. ****Things might seem a little confusing, but it's all building up to something really big.**

**And wow, I can't believe this story is almost at 400 reviews, you guys are awesome! **

**Just so you know, you can expect a new chapter of There's No One Else Like Me sometime next week, possibly as early as Monday! And for those of you who know, I always respond to reviews right before (or after) I update my stories. So thank you!**


	25. Matching Up the Parts

**Okay first of all: I am sooooo sorry. Second of all: I am really super sorry for taking a little longer to update this time around. Craziness happening, but at least I can tell you that you'll also get an update on Friday! **

**This chapter contains sexy times.**

**Also, this chapter is dedicated to all you lovelies out there but I want to thank naynay1963 and Chuckleshan for your wonderful encouragement. I hope the update starves off your withdrawals!**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Matching Up the Parts**

Brittany is pissed.

In fact, she's so pissed that if you were to place a piece of sheetrock right in front of her, she'd likely punch a hole right through it before proceeding to punch you in the face.

Typically, she's a pretty rational individual in most situations. Sure she's got a short fuse every now and then and sometimes hits first and asks questions later but she usually tends to give people the benefit of the doubt and often waits until it's absolutely necessary for her to go off the handle. So yes, Brittany will be the first to admit that she's usually got some kind of anger management issue brewing under the surface, which occasionally makes an appearance, but it's almost always justified.

For example, with Hunter, she'd put up with his shit for years. She tried to be the big sister that looked out for her little brother, even if said little (half) brother was a complete thorn in her side and made it his mission to do everything under the sun to piss her off. So in the end, he fucked up one too many times, and thus Brittany wasn't too worried about the asshole. Especially since he'd put the crew in danger more than once, especially since he put Santana in danger more than once.

Then, it came to people like Paul Evans. That guy had been a major prick since the day his family announced their entrance into town by driving a set of boosted Civics (like that's hard or even mildly impressive?) past the Pierce crew residence yelling unnecessary obscenities. Evans and his crew were little blips on the radar of real boosting and even less of an importance when if came to the racing world. So Brittany could care less.

Even particular brands of jerks like Jesse St. James and his enormously ego driven crew were easy to handle. Play by his rules until you can flip them on and use them against him, and stay off of his shit list. It's not too hard when Brittany has no rhyme or reason to have anything to do with Jesse beyond what's absolutely necessary. And it's only Santana's presence and involvement with the St. James' crew that keeps Brittany from going ape shit on all of them.

Everything was justified and reasonable in Brittany's world. Anger was a given, but she could learn to let go and get over stuff or wait until the opportune moment to strike back.

And as soon as the time is right, she will, but for now the protection of Santana is her biggest point of concern. That and keeping her crew out of trouble and off the radar as much as possible, she's doing what she can to make sure they don't get themselves killed.

But this time, it's different, because Brittany doesn't think she's ever been quite this pissed off before.

Which brings Brittany back to square one, because she's been angry with her crew before, and she's been disappointed, but she has never been red eyed furious and ready to kill a bitch with them like she is right this minute.

It's been three days since Holly and Quinn have been gone from the Pierce base without any sort of contact from them, well at least as far as Brittany knows. Apparently there's a whole different story and situation she didn't know about, one that she's still not getting the rundown from Holly right this instance.

Thus the main reason for the previous severely pissed off Brittany.

"Holly, look I don't care that you're older than me, I don't care that you're practically my aunt, and it doesn't really matter to me that at times you came into my life and kind of helped raise me. This is _my_ fucking crew and you are pissing me off to the max with this shit. So tell me, where the hell are you?" Brittany hisses through the phone, standing stark straight in the center of her garage waiting for the rest of her crew, and her lovely girlfriend, to wake up and make an appearance.

"Goldilocks candy bear," Holly begins to say.

"Cut the shit Holly, I'm not a naïve little girl anymore. Just tell me what's going on and when you, and Quinn, are coming back."

"Honey Brittkins, you will always be that adorable little girl to me," Holly says down the line, and Brittany's heart pinches for a second at the words. She pushes those feelings back, however, and releases a restless sigh signifying her quickly fading patience (as if it wasn't already mostly out the door.) "I'm sorry darling, but I can't tell you where Quinn and I are right now."

"You never got approval to go anywhere in the first place Holly and right now, you being away could seriously jeopardize our crew and the entire operation we have planned and are putting in motion. You could ruin that all just by not being here." Brittany cuts in again; she really doesn't understand how Holly doesn't recognize the severity of the situation.

"I swear to you Brittany, that if there had been any other way to do this I would have told you, but it was important for you not to know just yet. It's better this way for everyone, and as soon as we can we'll be back and things will be better. I promise." Holly says in a strangely soothing voice, it really shouldn't shock Brittany. Holly always has had a way with words. It's why she was so good at fooling everyone for so long.

"I'm sorry to say Holly but your promises don't really hold much validity anymore." Brittany admits, her tone dismal and lacking any sort of edge. There's a long pause that comes down the line before Brittany hears Holly take a short breath.

"Even so, you're still the most important thing in my world Shortcake Honeycrisp, and I've never made a promise to you that I didn't do everything in my power to keep."

Brittany has no words for the other woman in response to her statement. She's already deflated enough and really just doesn't want to deal anymore, "Listen Holly, just don't screw things up, and don't get Quinn hurt. She's a royal pain in my ass right now, but she's still my best friend. Don't expect a lot from me when you actually get back, but at least make it back alive."

"We will Brittany, and we love you too."

And with that, Brittany's anger is transformed into raw despair that even she's not sure what to do with. All she knows is that this shit, the sadness, is a whole lot harder to deal with than anger.

She feels like maybe a good engine to tear apart will help take her mind off of things.

##################

It's at least an hour after Brittany's call with Holly that another presence even makes themselves known in Brittany's shop. But this particular individual brings a smile to Brittany's face. She doesn't even have to see or hear Santana to know that it's her, and maybe that should scare Brittany, but for some reason it just makes everything she has with the woman that much more real and special.

"Hey." Brittany calls over her shoulder, glancing away briefly from her detail work on the hood of a car and towards Santana's direction before returning to her work. Santana doesn't reply right away, but Brittany hears the telltale soft padded approach of her feet and then feels the tender touch of Santana's hands as they wrap around her waist, full lips pressing softly into the skin of Brittany's neck and sending shivers down her spine.

"Mmm good morning," Santana husks into Brittany's clothed shoulder as her chin sets down upon it. Brittany smiles at the sexy morning rasp that still lingers in Santana's tone.

So fucking hot.

"Brittany, are you okay babe? You feel really tense." Santana inquires as her hands lock around Brittany's stomach and she feels the tension radiating from her body even as the taller woman briefly relaxes into the embrace. Brittany lets out a long sigh turning her head to the side until she comes into contact with reflective coffee brown eyes, somehow shiny bright despite their darker shade.

She gets lost in those eyes for a moment, until Santana's cheeky smile brings her back.

Brittany smiles, albeit a tad sadder, in return, "Sometimes I really just feel like nothing is in my control anymore." She admits, her eyes flickering off past Santana's gaze as if getting lost in her own thoughts before they return to that calming brown. Santana nods sympathetically and rests her chin back on the dip of Brittany's shoulder.

"That's because you do everything in your power to meet everyone's demands," Santana says honestly and watches Brittany's eyebrows scrunch in question, "Brittany, you are constantly looking out for everyone and everything. You put up with Hunter even when he treated you like shit, you refrain yourself from beating the shit out of Jesse, even if I sometimes really want you to do that," Brittany smiles softly at that and tilts into peck Santana's lips.

"You watch out for your own crew, even though half the time someone is messing something up, or running off without your orders, or god knows where and you are still always thinking ahead. You're thinking about the next car to boost, or prepping for the next race. You keep the shop running and you manage to stay out of trouble. Brittany, you're phenomenal and it's okay for you to feel a little weighed down sometimes. I think you just need to let someone help ease the weight from time to time."

Brittany's smile is massive at this point, that heaviness in her heart slowly drifting away as Santana's words fill it with something else. Like an immense pride and honor to have the privilege to call this sexy woman in front of her, hers. And a strange kind of euphoric bliss that stems from the fact that everything Santana has said is the truth, and Brittany has a feeling she knows where all this is going.

"And are you going to help ease this heavy weight off of me?" She asks with a coy smirk, turning her body around to rest her ass on the hood of the car and pull Santana's body as close as possible. Santana playfully rolls her eyes as she shuffles between Brittany's legs and drapes her arms over the woman's shoulders and around her neck.

"If that's what you need, then yes."

A light hearted chuckle trickles from Brittany's lips and some of the shine returns to her eyes as she gazes at the woman in her arms, that tingly feeling spreading outwards from the center of her heart and enveloping her body.

"I think you're all I've ever needed." Brittany whispers before her hands press into the small of Santana's back and pull her impossibly close, so that their lips seal together in a passionate but tender kiss.

As the kiss begins to deepen with Brittany's tongue licking into Santana's mouth, the grip that both women have on each other adjusts. Brittany goes from palming the small of Santana's back to sliding her hands further up her clothed back and hooking her arms around slim shoulders. Santana in turn drops her hands to the open sides of Brittany's button up shirt, gripping the material in her fists and holding Brittany in place.

A moan rumbles from one of their mouths as their tongues slide against each other and lips and teeth nip and suck and clash. Things appear to be going hot a lot faster than either woman intended, but surely still not fast enough to fully satisfy what either would want and then almost as quickly as it began, it comes to a screeching dead end halt.

An exceptionally annoying harmony begins to ring out through the shop, the melody echoing off the concrete walls and filtering back to Brittany and Santana's ears as a groan is ripped from both of their mouths as they reluctantly pull apart.

"Fucking phone, is that yours?" Brittany asks, her eyes darting around in search of the sound. Santana shakes her head, knowing her phone rests firmly in her back pocket and is not going off. She sees a sliver of black tucked next to some tools on the ground by Brittany's creeper and toolbox.

"I think it's yours actually."

Brittany's brow knits together as she glances down to where Santana is looking and recognizes the phone that Santana brought back the other morning, a 'gift' from Jesse so that she could remain on call at all times. With a huff, Brittany stretches out to retrieve the phone, doing her best to not let go of or move Santana. When she manages to pick the device up and hold it to her ear, she answers gruffly with a hint of aggravation.

Santana doesn't have to hear Jesse's side of the call to know that Brittany will have to run and do his dirty work shortly after the call ends. And sure enough, as Brittany tosses the phone back towards the grease rag near her toolbox, her disposition changes from that once flirty carefree tone to a serious and focused mode.

With a sigh, blue eyes lock onto brown, "I guess now I know how you feel."

"And now I know how _you_ feel." Santana responds, realizing that it's just as tough for Brittany when she has to watch her leave at Jesse's beck and call. "Is it serious stuff?"

Brittany shrugs, "It's serious enough. He wants us to boost a couple high dollar cars from some show, and he wants us to case them right now. I have to round up Mike and Q-" She trails off a little when she realizes that her second, second in command is not available. Santana stretches up on her tiptoes to ease her lips against Brittany's.

"I'll tell Cooper, David and Puck to get ready and head out with you." Santana offers, knowing that Brittany would prefer Quinn, but has to make due with whomever she can get at the moment. Brittany nods and finally glances back down at Santana with a small smile.

"Thanks Santana, I really don't ever want to know what it's like to live without you again."

Santana smirks and pokes Brittany in the side, "Just keep doing what you're doing hotshot, and you won't have to worry about that."

################

"Hey lil'Pez!"

Santana jerks her head around at the sound of one of her least favorite nicknames, ever. There are only two people in the world that even know that name, one of them is Hector who can get away with it only because he's her older brother. The other, however, gets a lashing whenever he tries to use it.

"Puckerman! What the fuck?" Santana exclaims as the guy in question jogs up to her, his hand running over the lump of hair on his head when he comes to a stop and then proceeds to get punched by his boss.

"Oww, geeze cool your jets woman!"

"Don't fucking call me woman like that you asshole!"

"Whaaat? Brittany says that all the time."

Santana's face heats in anger and she slugs her so-called friend in the shoulder once again, this time exponentially harder. Puck winces and grabs at his arm.

"Brittany," Santana starts, putting emphasis on the name, "Is my _girlfriend_, and the person I'm in love with. So she can call me whatever she wants because she knows that she'll either have to pay for it or she'll get rewarded for it."

Puck's eyebrows rise suggestively at this.

"And that's something that you will never ever ever get the pleasure of." Santana then explains, her eyes burning with anger.

"Okay, fine point taken. Can I talk to you now?" Puck says in surrender, his hands held up defensively.

"Shouldn't you be boosting with Brittany right now?"

"Jesus wo-really awesome boss, that's what I'm trying to talk to you about!"

Santana doesn't miss Puck's almost slip up but still she relents. Her eyes narrow, skeptical as always, and she crosses her arms and tilts her chin up, "Fine, but don't ever call me lil'Pez again."

Puck sighs and nods, "I know you wanted me to go with Brittany but I kind of told her I had something really important to give you." He begins to say before he reaches around to grab something from his back pocket as he slowly sinks down on one knee. Santana's eyes go wide and she starts waving her hands dramatically in front of her.

"Oh no, don't you dare. What the fuck…no…w-what the hell do you think you're doing?" Santana sputters all at once, unbelieving of the sight that is unfolding before her. Does Puckerman really think that he can just get down on one knee and do something incredibly dimwitted?

Puck starts laughing and jumps back up to his feet, shaking his head as chuckles quake through his body. He wipes a hand across his eye as if to brush away 'tears of laughter' and grins towards Santana.

"You're too easy Boss. Come on I'm not going to propose to you." Puck says that damn cocky childlike grin plastered across his face, "You just got done telling me you were absolutely in love with Brittany. I'm hopeless sometimes, but I'm not a complete idiot."

"That's debatable," Santana responds with an arched brow.

"Would you stop, here," Puck says with a roll of his eyes before he thrusts an item in Santana's direction. Santana's eyes glance down at what appears to be a piece of material in Puck's hand, and upon further examination she realizes it's a tie.

"You're giving me a tie?" She inquires skeptically as she takes the garment from Puck's hand and then watches as the normally self-confident man suddenly appears really nervous and lacking certainty.

"Well, you see there's also a couple things that sort of go with the tie."

"And they are?"

Puck avoids eye contact at all costs, and Santana knows something is definitely up.

"Puckerman, spit it out already!"

"It's Hector's tie!" Puck replies, and it dawns on Santana that she did recognize the blue and red striped tie from Hector's former prep school years. It went with a school uniform that she has no remembrance of but she knows that Hec would always wear that damn tie, even if he wasn't at school.

"Why do you have Hector's tie?"

Puck sighs heavily again, "Because he gave it to me just before he asked me to take you away from Miami."

Santana's heart skips a beat. She couldn't have heard Puck correctly.

"He asked you to take me away? What are you talking about Puck?"

Nothing is spoken from Puck for several seconds as he stands a few feet in front of Santana, mulling things over and trying to decide the best way to go about explaining this very surprising information.

Finally his amber shaded hazel eyes flicker up and lock with the same shade of brown that the man who entrusted Puck with all this information distinctively had. He knows what Hector asked him to do, but it doesn't mean that it's easy explaining all of that to his baby sister. Particularly when Santana really isn't much of a baby anymore and could easily punch his lights out if he says something wrong.

"Hector knew," He starts out, watching as Santana's brow creases in confusion, "He knew probably about two weeks into working with Jesse that things were going to go sour if he kept up with it. That's the main reason he never let you in on the dealings, and why it took so long for him to even tell me and Finn what was going on."

"Santana, Hec was running between trying to pretend he was helping Jesse and trying to figure out a way to bring him down. I guess kind of like what we're all doing right now with the Pierce crew," Puck then explains, his forehead wrinkling as he considers just how true that is, "He actually made contact with some really important people that said they could help, he never told me who they were or how they could help but I guess somehow Jesse found out about it all and that's why Hec made us take you and run."

Santana shakes her head, she's still having a problem processing this, "But why wouldn't he just tell me? Why did he have to try to do it on his own? And why are you just telling me now? It doesn't make me feel any better knowing that Brittany and I have been working so close with Jesse."

"I know, I know but Hector made me promise I wouldn't give the tie to you and explain everything, until it was absolutely necessary and I figure, with us getting closer to taking down Jesse it had to be the right time." Puck says with a nod.

"But I still don't see why he wouldn't have just told me all of this, and who were these people he was meeting with? How did Jesse find out?"

"Like I said, I don't know who the people were, or how Jesse found out. Hec never got around to telling me that, and he only told me last second because he had to tell someone. He didn't tell you because he didn't want to put you in even more danger. Jesse had no clue what you looked like so there was no way to actually link you to Hector if he didn't know your name. That's why he had us blow up the apartment, so it looked like maybe Hector Lopez' little sister had 'died' and then Jesse wouldn't bother looking for you."

"Why the goddamn tie though!?" Santana's frustration finally hits a boiling point and Puck steps forward to catch her as a wave of emotion hits and her legs threaten to give out.

It hasn't even been more than a few months since they left Miami and wound up in Vegas, and with Brittany's crew, but Santana wants to know what the significance of the tie is and why it took even this long for it to be given to her.

Puck shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, "I don't know Ant," he murmurs, using the nickname that Hector himself gave Santana when she was really young, it took her a while to grow out of it, but its still a special term between the siblings, "All I know is I promised Hec I'd do anything I could to keep you safe and that when I gave you the tie, I would tell you to 'remember' just like he asked me to. Now all I guess we can do is keep up with the plan. Brittany's got a good head on her shoulders, and you're one of the smartest people I know."

Santana smiles at that as Puck's arms hug her in a brotherly embrace, one that she's been missing for a while now. It's not the embrace she needs, like one from Hector, or the one she really wants, like from Brittany, but Puck's not a bad guy and she's glad that he's been here for her.

"If you two can't figure it out, I don't know who can."

"Thanks Puck," Santana says as she pulls back from the hug and tucks the tie securely into her hoodie pocket. "You're a good guy."

Puck's smirk returns to his face, "You know it. Now how about some lunch before your lady gets back?"

With a roll of her eyes, Santana gives a confirming nod and allows Puck to walk her back towards the kitchen area of the building. At the very least, she can maybe talk some more with her friend and try to calm her worries about every other crazy thing that's going on around her.

It'll be a temporary fix until Brittany gets back, but it will be something at least.

####################

Santana exits Brittany's condo to head over to the garage and wait for Brittany's expected return. She feels much better now about the earlier situation and onslaught of information delivered to her by Puck. When she takes a moment to think about it, she knows that Hector would have never done anything if it wasn't the absolute best thing for her and everyone else.

She misses her brother like crazy and hopes that he's okay, but at the same time she's glad that she has people like Puck and her crew and the Pierce crew around to help get her through the days.

But especially, she's incredibly happy she has someone like Brittany. She knows that Brittany is everything good, and beautiful and entirely badass in this world and she's fortunate for that.

Santana is thinking about just how much being around Brittany, and being with Brittany, has made a significant difference in her life when she hears the distinct rev of a Hemi engine from a 1970 Plymouth Barracuda just as it comes rolling down the street into view. She watches in awe as the car and into the area outside of Brittany's shop.

She doesn't realize her jaw is slack until Santana has to pick it up off the ground again as she watches Brittany step out of the car clad in solid black chucks, dark grey jeggins, and a white tank top layered under a blue, black, and white plaid patterned button up as she strolls casually in Santana's direction, blonde hair down and flowing freely behind her despite the absence of wind.

Brittany's soft chuckle as she wraps her arms around Santana's waist and pulls the woman in for a kiss is the only thing that snaps Santana out of her fantasy induced haze. Thankfully she recovers quickly and is able to return the action of Brittany's lips easily sliding against her own.

It's only been five hours since Brittany saw Santana this morning in her shop at the crack of dawn, but the taller woman can't help but feel absolutely content to have her beautiful girl back in her arms.

"You smell really nice." Brittany hums into the skin of Santana's neck as she brushes a few kisses across the tan flesh, grinning at the way Santana's fingers seem to grip more desperately at her back. Santana just sighs in lieu of an answer and then lets out a squeal as she feels Brittany's hands drop to the backs of her thighs and tug upwards, lifting Santana's body up into her taller frame and forcing the smaller woman to wrap her legs around her waist.

A large grin covers Brittany's face as she stares at a surprised but decidedly happy Santana, "Want to help me strip the Cuda and detail her up?" Brittany asks in the most cheerful voice Santana thinks has ever come out of the woman's mouth.

With a nod, Santana leans down to press a kiss to Brittany's lips, "I can't think of anything else that I would rather do." She replies and is supplied with another bruising kiss before Brittany turns and walks them both back towards her shop where Mike is pulling in the Cuda.

###############

Okay so Santana may have lied about the whole 'I can't think of anything else I would rather do' thing, because seeing Brittany working on cars and getting all in her element? Well that's certainly bringing forth some ideas for just what else Santana could think about doing.

Doing with Brittany. On the hood of the Cuda, hood scoop be damned. Or on the back of the car. Or even the front seat, whichever, Santana's not picky.

But then, ohhh, then Brittany decides to forego working on the car and instead mounts the Suzuki SV650 that she's been working on and getting back in shape every since Hunter's negligence forced Santana to ride it in a dangerous race and then sort of crash it.

That's not the point though.

The point is that Santana has been silently watching Brittany work for the last hour at the side of the bike, but now watching Brittany swing her leg over the seat and straddle the bike before she turns the key and presses the ignition to check her work? Well, Santana's got hot and bothered feelings rushing all up and down (mostly down) her body, and all she can think of doing is relieving the obvious weight that's currently bringing them both down.

In other words, Santana thinks it's about time Brittany took a break and let Santana work on _her_.

"Baby," Santana says standing from her seat and walking slowly over to Brittany's position. She doesn't miss the way that blue eyes rake over and appreciate Santana's outfit of jean shorts, red cami, and the same type of solid black Chucks that Brittany is wearing. She simply smiles devilishly as Brittany licks her lips and her eyes flit back up to predatory brown.

Then Santana is sliding onto the bike behind Brittany and pressing into her back as her arms wrap around her waist.

"You need to release a little bit. Let someone else catch you. I'm here," Santana hushes into Brittany's ear before her lips press a light wet kiss to the skin of Brittany's neck. Something seems to wash over Brittany in that moment, and she lets Santana's words sink into her skin. Into her bones. Into her soul. She knows she's never had anything quite like Santana's love in her life before, and even though it's scary as hell to close her eyes and let herself just fall, she's already fallen further than she ever has before.

And it just feels right.

With a nod, Brittany's head tilts forward slightly and she exhales letting ever extra bit of tension push itself free from her body, if only for a moment.

"Just like that," Santana whispers as her hands rub soothingly up and down Brittany's arms, her chest pressed in closely to Brittany's back as their breathing slows to match each other. Her nose nuzzles softly against Brittany's cheek and draws the attention of clear blue eyes.

"There are those gorgeous eyes I love so much." Santana murmurs, her smile splitting wider as her eyes gaze over the rest of Brittany's face. She stretches forward to brush her lips against Brittany's, "You're stunning Brittany. You're beautiful and brilliant, and commanding and graceful. And you take so much weight on your shoulders, but even the best of us deserve a little break. We all need safety nets, and I'm yours because I'm so in love with you and I can't imagine a single day in my future with you not in it."

Brittany's stunned for a second. It's not as though she'd never think Santana capable of saying words like that, it's just those tend to be the kind of words that come out of her own mouth, often in times she doesn't mean them. But she's never heard anything said with more conviction, and she knows Santana's telling the truth.

"I don't want a day like that to exist either."

In one fluid motion their lips are connected as Santana's fingers grip at the material of Brittany's button up top to pull it apart and away from Brittany's body until its being tugged down the length of her arms and thrown to the side of the bike about the same time that Brittany's tongue slides across Santana's bottom lip before dipping into her mouth.

As Brittany's tongue glides against Santana's, she feels sure and steady fingers work their way to the button and zipper of her jeans, popping them and pulling the teeth apart with little struggle. Brittany moans into Santana's mouth when she then feels confident fingers tickle across the skin just above the waistband of her boyshorts before Santana angles her hand to run over the smoothness of Brittany's hard stomach.

A pink lip is caught between plump lips as Santana practically purrs at the feeling of Brittany's skin underneath her hand. She slides it further until Santana is cupping a pale, soft breast in her palm, leaving her dominant hand to push its way between the space of Brittany's cotton panties and the roughness of her far too tight jeans. Brittany whines out a gasp, her lips parting from Santana's for air as fingers press firmly between her legs, Santana's fingertips rubbing up and down the wetness already found there.

"Britt," Santana husks into Brittany's ear, "_Fuck_, you're so wet already."

Brittany shudders at those words knowing any attempt to refute them would be pure lies. She's never met another woman that could make her this wet, this fast. And Santana's barely touched her. She probably should have figured it all out from that first time she came under the endeavors of Santana's fingers and tongue, because she'd never come that hard in her life. She was gone from that moment on.

"Fuck Sant-_ana…_" Brittany's intended demand gets stuttered out in a mess of syllables when she feels Santana drag her fingers back up her center until they rest directly over her pulsing bundle of nerves.

Santana starts with slow, tight circles humming into Brittany's neck as her other hand squeezes the flesh it rests on, her palm brushing over a hardening nipple. Gradually, her fingers press harder into Brittany, and fingers pinch at erect buds as Brittany rocks her hips forward in attempt to gain more pressure and friction. She realizes her hands are gripping desperately at Santana's thighs that are pressed up against her own. Thankful the bike is staying steady on its kickstand as Brittany's shaky legs are not putting forth much of an effort to do so.

She groans again, a throaty "Please" popping from her lips as the fingers between her legs stop their focused circling and instead begin to rub in an agonizingly slow pace up and down Brittany's covered sex. Even through the soaked cotton material of her boyshorts, Brittany can feel everything.

Past the point of caring that she's begged, Brittany's right hand comes up and clasps itself over Santana's, stilling the other woman's hand just as she twists her fingers closer to the area just above Brittany's entrance.

Brittany blinks her eyes open and turns her head to see Santana watching her in fascination, her eyes cloudy with arousal and her mouth parted in amazement.

"I need you," Brittany starts to say, pulling on Santana's hand before maneuvering it underneath the cotton covering her burning heat until Santana's fingers slip through her wetness, "To put your fingers inside of me."

Santana's hips jerk forward involuntarily at Brittany's words, and she barely catches her moan from escaping by biting the inside of her cheek. She nods and doesn't waste a second more curling her fingers through wet heat until she tilts them up and pushes them smoothly into Brittany's entrance. Brittany shudders at the feeling of Santana's fingers sliding inside of her, welcoming the way she the digits the deeper she goes.

"God…_fuck S-san_tana."

A stuttered breath escapes Brittany's lungs as Santana drags her fingers back out only to thrust them back in much faster and harder the next time. Brittany finds her hands gripping intensely at Santana's bare thighs again. Her hips roll into the movements of those damn skilled tan fingers, forcing them deeper and earning a moan from full lips behind her as Santana's body presses harder into Brittany's back and her right hand squeezes at the breast it is currently holding.

The thrusts angle a little so that Santana's palm is tapping Brittany's clit every time her fingers sink inside wet heat.

"You feel amazing baby." Santana whispers as her tongue slides up the side of Brittany's neck and the tips of her fingers brush along Brittany's inner walls.

She knows her girl is close, she can feel it in the way Brittany's breathing has changed, her hips are rocking in a rhythmic motion and Santana's fingers are getting wetter and wetter as Brittany's insides begin to clench and flutter around them.

"Uh…fuck…_ooohh_…"

Santana's eyes focus on the pleasure washing over Brittany's features. Her fingers curl just a little deeper and she pinches at pink nipple between her other fingers before nudging her nose into Brittany's cheek and placing a kiss there.

"I love you Brittany."

Those last words mixed with the shove of Santana's hips into Brittany, who's own hips are rolling desperately now, trips Brittany into her release and she sinks forward grinding down almost erratically into Santana's hand as the pleasure ripples through her.

"_Ungh_…h-holy shit..yes!"

As Brittany's walls clamp around Santana's fingers, she brushes her lips down the ledge of Brittany's jaw, kissing sensually as her right palm rubs over Brittany's breast and nipple. When the tremble of Brittany's body calms down, Santana's fingers stop their slow thrusting and slip out of the warm wetness. A sigh pops from Brittany's lips at the bittersweet feeling of loss and the overwhelming satisfaction of her orgasm still humming through her.

She takes a deep breath and leans back into Santana's body, feeling as though a whole lot of weight has been lifted from her body. Sure, she would much prefer to have her and Santana fully naked and fucking on any surface available, but every so often a good screw on the bike is hot.

It sucks how quickly things can change sometimes though.

Blue eyes slowly blink open, intent on turning around to admire the woman behind her and maybe (definitely) returning the favor, when Brittany suddenly spots something abnormal at the far side of her shop.

"What the hell is that?"

Santana's eyes slant in the direction that Brittany's looking but find nothing out of the ordinary.

"What's what baby?" Santana asks, sighing in content as she slumps forward into Brittany's body, the excursion of fucking the other woman while perched on a bike starting to really catch up to her. Not that it wasn't absolutely worth it though.

But as soon as Santana has closed her eyes and is beginning to really relax, they're springing open as she feels Brittany shift off the bike. Brittany's quick enough to catch Santana though before she falls and is then careful in ushering Santana from the bike. She takes a hold of a tan hand before she walks in the direction of the shop door, the small personnel one that leads to the outside.

And that's when Santana finally sees it, and even though she doesn't really recognize it, it appears eerily odd and immediately sends shivers down her spin as gooseflesh erupts on her skin.

Brittany grasps the item in question from its perch hung on the door handle and turns it around to look closely at it.

Staring up at her is a blue blazer, with red trim lining the edges. Brittany's brow creases in confusion.

"What the actual fuck is going on?"

* * *

**I don't know how you all are doing out there so I think you should tell me about that! And tell me, what's your dream car? Also, it's quite possible that this story is beginning to inch towards an ending. Don't worry I'll keep you informed of its predicted ending! And as always, thank you! **


	26. The Right of Way

**It's still Friday in my time zone! And here it is, your SECOND update of the week. Thank you everyone once again for your amazingness! Also in an effort to get this out tonight it might not be completely perfectly edited!**

**And you all had solid dream car picks! **Handr9255** I couldn't respond to you personally, but I like your choice!**** Mine is still a Nissan GT-R but I wouldn't mind driving a few of your choices!**

* * *

**Chapter 26: The Right of Way**

Santana remains standing next to her girlfriend staring in surprise and confusion at the blazer that Brittany still holds in her hand. The taller woman looks to her left and makes contact with brown eyes.

"Was this here when we came in?"

A few seconds go by as Santana really considers Brittany's question.

She remembers that they were both thoroughly distracted when they entered the shop, Brittany having carried her there while they took turns exchanging kisses and soft pecks against lips and jaws and necks. Then Brittany proceeded to set Santana on the worktable while standing between the shorter woman's tan legs, which were still wrapped firmly around Brittany's waist, before they started sharing deeper kisses.

Things eventually calmed down to the point where Brittany began to change around some things on the Plymouth, not too much change but enough of a quick fix that the car didn't look like it had when Brittany had originally boosted it. After Brittany finished what she was doing with the car she started working on her bike, and not too long after things started to heat up again when Santana decided to be all sexy and straddle the bike behind Brittany and 'take care of her'.

"I don't remember it being there." Santana acknowledges, all the occurrences of their time in the shop together so far leading her to believe that the blazer had to have been there the whole time and they just didn't notice it.

Brittany nods at Santana's affirmation, she'd been having some thoughts of her own and had basically come to the same conclusion.

When she'd recovered from the intense orgasm that Santana had given her, and was able to pull herself back together a bit, was the first time that Brittany actually noticed the blazer hanging in the corner of the garage.

Even though she realizes that they had been pretty loud with their sexcapdes, it's impossible for Brittany to not be loud when Santana makes her feel that way, it wouldn't make any sense for them not to have seen someone come in and hang something on the fucking door. The garage is not that large and something like someone hanging a blazer just wouldn't have gone unnoticed, even in a sex filled haze.

"It had better have been here before we came in here, otherwise I'm going to be kicking some creepers ass for more than one reason."

Santana isn't sure why, but the way that Brittany so seriously delivers that statement does something to her. It's not that she doubts her girlfriend's conviction but it's just really almost perfect, and it causes her to giggle just a little. In turn, blue eyes flash quickly back in her direction and a fair eyebrow rises in a look of inquisition.

Shaking her head in indication that she's not laughing at Brittany, Santana leans in and pecks the other woman's pink lips, "It's just really sexy when you're all alpha boss, but at the same time entirely perfect."

Brittany's eyebrow cocks higher, but the shadow of a smile still quirks at the corner of her mouth, "That's just another way of saying I look 'cute' isn't it?"

"Aww but baby you are _cute_." Santana emphasizes the word with another peck on Brittany's lips smiling as blue eyes roll with the punches. Brittany sighs and inclines her head back towards the blazer.

"Let's take care of this right now and find out what's going on, and then after that I'll show you just how not 'cute' I am." Brittany says as her left hand drops from the blazer and blindly reaches out to grasp Santana's right hand. With a squeeze and a nod, Santana allows Brittany to lead the way from the shop, the blazer still in Brittany's free hand.

They walk from the shop and proceed into the Pierce building where Brittany quickly finds Rory working in the tech room.

"Rory," Brittany calls to the young man who snaps his eyes up from his computer screen and immediately starts blushing. Noticing this abrupt change in demeanor Brittany glances towards the screen and instantly has to turn her head away when she sees what's on it, "Ugh gross Rory, I told you not to use the crew computer's for your obsession with anime porn that I still don't understand!"

Even though Santana avoids being subjected to the images on the screen, her face still scrunches in distaste before another giggle pops from her lips at Brittany's own display of a horror stricken face.

Rory blushes even more profusely, he knew he should have brought his own laptop into the room tonight, but he didn't think his boss, or her new girlfriend, and their rather sexually active lifestyle would afford them any time or care to come anywhere near him.

Guess his Irish luck wasn't that lucky tonight.

"I'm sorry boss, I-I…" He stutters but manages to get no further before Brittany is holding up her hand to silence him.

"Look just exit out of your anime stuff and radio to the rest of the crew, including Santana's, that we are having a meeting in the conference room, and everyone is expected to be there."

There's a moment of hesitation, and Rory knows he probably shouldn't but he still kind of blurts out, "It's Hentai by the way."

Brittany's look of utter disregard, and general lack of knowledge concerning the topic, essentially spur Rory to skip over any sort of technical corrections and just do as he's ordered to do.

Boss says jump, you fucking jump.

"Sorry boss, yeah I'll get right on that. I'll have to call Mike and Puck in from their reconnaissance that you put them on but at most it should take everyone about a half an hour to get back."

With a nod of her head, Brittany pats her tech on the back, "Good then I'll see them all, and you, in the conference room in thirty." She says and doesn't wait for an answer before she turns and heads back out of the room, her hand still firmly gripping Santana's who easily and willingly follows behind.

Once Brittany's back out in the hallway she pauses for a second, concentration masking the rest of her scattered emotions. There are too many things to consider at the moment, and worry about.

What the fuck is the blazer all about? Who put it there? When did they put it there? Why was it just left, without any sort of other clue to go along with it? What does that mean for her crew? Is she going to be able to protect them and Santana or is shit about to get really real?

Brittany hates to think of having to choose between Santana and her crew. Her crew's her family. She's grown up with a lot of them, or at the very least spent a considerable amount of time with them. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears. But when she thinks about it, Brittany knows Santana is her future. And sometime down the road, Brittany knows she'd be more than happy to call Santana her wife, her family.

Proudly so.

"You're thinking really hard Brittany, do you want to talk about it?" The soothing, practical a voice of an angel, is murmuring in Brittany's ear as she feels Santana step further into her side, wrap her arms around her waist, and press her lips into Brittany's clothed button down shirt.

With a sigh, Brittany turns her eyes to meet Santana's concerned brown, "Just the usual you know?"

Santana nods and Brittany swallows thickly. Just looking at Santana like she is, and having the other woman gaze back at her so adoringly, makes her hot around the collar, but somehow it's a really good feeling. It's also just particularly fucking scary.

"You know I love you right?"

A large grin spreads across Santana's face at Brittany's words, "I know you do, just like you know that I'm helplessly in love with you."

Brittany's heart still jumps and flips at those words. God if they didn't sound so fucking perfect. She tilts down to capture Santana's lips in her own, twisting her body slightly so that they are pressed chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip, and forehead-to-forehead.

When she breaks from the kiss, Brittany sucks in a staggered breath, "I just need you to always remember that." She whispers, her forehead pressed tenderly against Santana's, her hands gripping firmly at her hips. Santana's hands slide up into Brittany's hair, tangling in the long locks before she tugs Brittany's lips back to hers and kisses her soundly.

"I have absolutely no reason to ever forget." She says as they break for air again.

"Good." Brittany smiles and pecks Santana's lips again. She's about to add something to her whole cheesy spiel, that she could give a fuck about being so cliché and what not, when the sound of the front door of the building opening pauses Brittany's train of thought and causes her to glance towards the entrance.

Both Brittany's and Santana's crew, minus Mike and Puck for the moment, trickle in through the glass doors nodding their heads towards their respective leaders.

Reluctantly, Brittany and Santana separate a little until they are standing side-by-side and holding hands.

"Eh Pierce, what's this about? I was this close to having a good time with a hot-blooded blondie. I mean she's no you, but she's easily a seven. If you know what I mean?" Cooper is, not surprisingly, the first to speak up and quite literally kill any semblance of ease. A few groans can be heard from other members of the Lopez crew and Brittany feels Santana noticeably tense next to her.

"Can it Cooper before I personally make sure that you can no longer 'have a good time' with any kind of woman." Santana hisses through her teeth making Brittany instantly smirk and the rest of the crewmembers stifle their laughs. Cooper's face goes immediately red, his pale skin flushing a bright pink pigment as his wide scared eyes dart around in nervousness. He knows from experience that Santana Lopez does not tell bullshit lies.

When it appears that everyone else has settled down enough, Brittany finally speaks up, "I need everyone to go to the conference room. I have a few things to talk about with you all as soon as Mike and Puck get here."

Everyone is quick to nod their consent and make their way onwards to the conference room until it's just Brittany and Santana standing solitaire again.

Santana turns towards her girlfriend and is about to speak when a buzzing in her pocket shatters those plans. Brittany squeezes Santana's hand in reassurance before she watches her girlfriend answer the phone call that is undoubtedly from their mutual 'boss'. Santana hangs up a few minutes later, after barely a word from her end, brown eyes having never left blue.

Brittany tugs Santana in closer when she pockets her phone again, the dread in her brown eyes conveying Brittany's original worry that Santana's going to have to go somewhere and Brittany won't be able to come with.

A soft kiss is pressed to a tan forehead, Santana's eyes fluttering shut with the touch.

"Whatever it is, I won't be very far away if you need me," Brittany whispers into Santana's hair as she cradles her girl's head against her own, her other arm wrapped around the smaller woman holding her body to her tightly, "And please just come back safe Santana."

Full lips turn to press into the skin of Brittany's neck before Santana pulls back and stares up into those vibrant blues.

"As long as you don't do anything to put yourself in danger before I get back."

Brittany chuckles and pecks Santana on the lips, "You know I'm a wild one."

"Yes, but you're _my_ wild one now. So don't be Brittany the badass daredevil, be Brittany the badass boss who delegates the most dangerous tasks to those who don't have a girlfriend expecting them to come home alive."

"That's kind of discriminating San," Brittany teases but Santana merely rolls her eyes and gently smacks the woman on her arm.

"Brittany Pierce, you are incorrigible."

"Even though I don't understand a lot of the words that come out of your mouth Santana Lopez, I still find them incredibly sexy and I kind of want to take you back to my condo and see how many other things I can get to come out of your mouth."

Santana is already shaking her head and gasping before Brittany even finishes her words. She leans into the woman again, planting her lips against the underside of Brittany's jaw one more time before she finally pulls back fully from her girlfriend's grasp.

"You go have your meeting thing. I'll go talk to Jesse really quick and be back before you know it. Then you can fill me in and well, maybe do other things with me too." She says with a wink before she spins around and walks away from Brittany, giving the sway in her hips a little more oomph just for those blue eyes she knows are locked onto her ass.

As Brittany watches Santana exit the building she finds that she has the most ridiculously large grin plastered across her face. She shakes her head with a chuckle before she turns and proceeds to meet the awaiting crewmembers in the conference room.

It might be a little more difficult to concentrate with thoughts of Santana tumbling through her mind but she's going to do her best. Brittany knows that soon enough her wandering thoughts will turn into actual occurrences.

#################

It's been twenty minutes since Brittany entered the conference room. She keeps glancing in Rory's direction, as if he can make Puck and Mike return any faster.

"I'm sorry boss, the last communication I got from Mike was right after you asked me to call everyone in. He said that he and Puck just had to finish up something and they'd be on their way back. They should be here by now."

Brittany glares at her tech guy, "I know they should be here by now Rory, that's why I'm wondering why the hell they aren't!" She exclaims, her frustrations, and the prodding tickle of panic, completely overtaking her rationale and forcing out her anger. Mike's the third best booster she knows, after herself and Santana, and it's very unlike him to have any troubles. Even if he did, that's the reason they have communication devices to keep in touch.

"And you tried him on the comm again?"

Rory nods, "Yeah boss, there was no reply."

"And his GPS markers?"

"They didn't turn them on for this run, Mike was worried about the guys from Jesse's crew finding out. He didn't want to lead them back to this location and put anyone in danger."

"But that doesn't make any sense, Mike knows that Jesse is aware of our base and he's the one that gave us the reconnaissance mission anyway. He would know where we were supposed to be at." Brittany reasons, now gnawing on her bottom lip as she goes over the details of earlier today.

When Jesse had called her away from Santana this morning, Brittany had gone and met the sleeze himself and listened to his plan of action for the following evening. The evening marked the last day of the huge import car show that downtown was holding. The plan was for Brittany and three of her crew, in this case Mike, Joe and Puck, to case out some of the higher dollar cars potential and planned exit strategies.

Jesse knew that the majority of the cars at the show were trucked over from somewhere else, and thus must be trucked back to where they came from.

His idea was for Brittany to find out the exact route that a select few of these cars would be traveling on (after they left the show) and execute the boost on them then. It would be in the dead of night, when it was less likely for them to be made, captured, and then spotted driving off. But first, Jesse wanted to see Brittany steal one of the muscle cars that were going home a day earlier. Sort of like a test run for the whole thing. Thus the reason for the Plymouth Barracuda that Brittany drove back earlier in the afternoon.

She kept enough of the car original so that Jesse was aware it was in fact a car from the show, but also fixed it up so that anyone who happened to get a glance at it they wouldn't know that it had been the no doubt reportedly stolen car. Brittany's guess is that Jesse called Santana back for the evening to give him proof that Brittany had successfully executed the boost and she was ready for the real one.

The real boost that was supposed to happen the following evening, the one that she sent Mike and Puck out to do some last detail casing on so that they were thoroughly and fully prepared.

Which brings Brittany back to this point, because there's still no Mike or Puck and she really has no idea why that could be. It was supposed to be an easy job, a breeze mission, but something all of a sudden doesn't feel right.

Especially with the mystery blazer still displayed in a chair next to her.

"I don't know then Brittany, maybe the comm just failed and they have no other way to get a hold of us right now. They're probably fine and on their way back now."

Brittany nods, that's all she can hope for at the moment. In the mean time, she might as well get started with the original reason she called this little conference.

"Let's hope they are. Meanwhile, I'm going to start this discussion without them as I don't think I can really wait any longer to get any sort of answers for the entire messed up debacle I'm going to explain to you."

A round of nods goes through the crewmembers seated at the conference table and Brittany takes a moment to glance at each and every one of them.

Her crew sits waiting patiently for their leader to speak. It makes Brittany smile a little considering how far they've all come.

Rory's really grown into his whole tech job, and even though he still fumbles a little, he has turned out to be pretty impressive at the job. Joe's boosting skills have come a long way and he no longer seems to be a whining baby during high-speed chases and maneuvers of aversion that must be taken when boosting a car.

There's Lauren, who was originally the 'muscle' for mainly Hunter even decided to stay around, and although she doesn't say much, it would seem that she's at least loyal to Brittany now. And there's Sugar who still remains very much a mystery to Brittany with her sometimes comical obliviousness and her other times masterful fountain of knowledge and wisdom, but who nonetheless is very much a key member of her crew.

Of course the two most vital members of her team, Mike and Quinn, are missing for reasons that Brittany cannot fathom, and that greatly brings about apprehension to her thoughts. She knows they're adults, but they're also like a brother and sister to her, and she doesn't want to think of them being in danger or getting injured if there was someway for her to prevent it.

And then there's Santana.

God, what can she even say about that woman? She's incredible, beautiful, amazing, and just such a symbol of hope in Brittany's life. Santana's made everything bad in Brittany's past seem bearable, and everything in her present absolutely captivating and the potential for their future alluringly remarkable.

There's just so many things that Brittany could say about Santana, but she's positive that if the woman were here now she'd know what Brittany was thinking and would probably do that thing where she silently agrees with her and then tells her that she doesn't have to say anything.

It's an unbreakable, unshatterable, undestroyable, unsinkable bond that they have, and Brittany's never letting that go.

She considers how because of that bond, Santana's crew has also found a place for themselves within Brittany's acceptance.

How even with the sometimes lazy and careless tactics of Cooper, he's still manages to be a decent asset to the team. How David has been exceptional in lending tech support to Rory when needed. Puck who, after the initial silent dispute for Santana's affections and the overall win for Brittany (as if there was ever any company), has managed to prove his worth as a booster and a great crewmember.

Then there's Rachel…wait, what the hell does Brittany even know about Rachel? Her eyes trail over to the small woman who sits silently at the far end of the table, hands clasped together and resting poised for perfection on the table, a very strange and slightly out of place large grin spread across her face.

Brittany realizes that aside from one or two interactions with Rachel, that did not go over well with her because Rachel was persistent in speaking to Brittany like a toddler and then tried to seek her fashion advice (which is not just given out to anyone, very few can pull of the looks that Brittany pulls off), she really doesn't know much about the small member who is apart of Santana's crew.

She's also the member whose boyfriend quite suddenly disappeared into thin air not too long ago.

"You," Brittany suddenly says, pointing directly to Rachel whose face flashes in a look of surprise, "I haven't talked to you much. Tell me something useful."

Rachel sits there for a second, her mouth gapping open and closed in a look similar to that of a fish out of water, before her brown eyes blink rapidly for a few seconds and she finally uses her voice.

"M-me? W-what do you w-ant me to s-say?" Okay so maybe it's not so much a 'voice' as it is a noise to Brittany. High pitched and somehow in the form of a melody, though not necessarily a pleasing one in Brittany's concern, regardless of the stuttered syllables.

"I want you to tell me something that you know. Frankly, I don't know exactly what it is you do, and I'd kind of like to know."

The fear doesn't subside from Rachel's eyes at Brittany's demand, but after a few moments she finally decides to speak up again.

"Well I'm uh Rachel Berry and I've been a part of the Lopez crew for a little over a year now." Rachel starts to say and when she notices no one is going to cut her off, she gains a lot more confidence and starts to really make a show about the whole thing. With a flip of her hand she flicks her long brown locks behind her shoulder. "Originally, I was a friend of Santana's," Brittany's eyes raise at this admission, "Well, I mean we knew each other." Rachel corrects and Brittany feels this is the more likely situation.

It's not that she's sure Santana couldn't be friends with the woman, it simply appears to her that would need a little extra time to get used to Rachel, and given that Santana spends the majority of her time doing other things that are very important, it's probably not stacked very high in the cards for her to be best friends with Rachel.

Who knows, Brittany could be wrong.

Brittany walks over to the mini fridge in the room and grabs out a bottle of water, unscrewing the lid and bringing it to her mouth as the very small woman continues her 'explanation'.

"I'd met Santana and her brother Hector through Noah Puckerman," Rachel then says, glancing to the other members of her crew who appear to be watching her with barely a hint of interest, "When we briefly dated." The water that had been in Brittany's mouth is suddenly expelled to the right of her, luckily not on anyone else, at these words.

"Wait, hold on, what?"

Rachel's face reddens a little at Brittany's interruption, but she clears her throat and holds her chin up high, "That's right, Noah and I briefly dated. That was how I was sanctioned into the group. Shortly after that I met Finn and he became a part of the group…and now…I d-don't know where h-he is." Her last few words start to get a little emotional as Brittany sees the first hint of tears build up in Rachel's eyes.

"Rachel," Brittany begins to say sympathetically, not sure she's fully equipped to handle a crying woman at the moment, "Was there ever anything that Finn said to you or did that could give any kind of indication of where or why he might have taken off?"

She receives a single shake of the head from Rachel.

"I'm sorry that we don't know more Rachel, as a crew we're going to try and figure it out." Brittany says with a sigh as she runs her hand through her hair. She reaches out next to her and picks up the blazer off the chair and holds it up.

"What's with the blazer boss?"

"That's what I was hoping you guys could help me figure out. I'd never seen it before until it was hanging on the door of my shop about an hour ago. I don't know who put it there, I don't know why it was there, and I have no idea what the hell it is." Brittany addresses the crews before her.

"Ohh my gosh, I've seen that blazer before." She suddenly hears Rachel's voice speak up again from the other side of the table. Standing from her seat, Rachel walks up to Brittany and the blazer to take it out of her grip and run her hand over the red-trimmed lapels.

"You recognize it?"

With a nod Rachel starts to explain, "I remember back in Miami seeing a picture of Finn's step-brother in a blazer like this. It was from when he went to some prep school in the area."

"And you're sure the blazer was exactly like this one?" Brittany inquires, the idea that she might be getting some answers finally putting her on the edge of eager.

Rachel nods, "I'm positive this is the same one. Finn's step-brother used to wear it in almost every picture that they used to take."

"Do you remember his name? Finn's step-brother? Is he around to talk to?" The questions spill out of Brittany's mouth, her heartbeat picking up because of the adrenaline this whole situation is fueling. Rachel seems to contemplate for a few moments.

"I think he still lives in Miami," She starts to say, Brittany's hope deflates a little, "And I think his name was-"

Before Rachel has the chance to finish her sentence there's a loud thudding noise that comes from outside in the hallway. Cooper, Joe and David stand up from the table and rush to Brittany's side, ready to assist her if anything's going to be going down.

Brittany takes a step out into the hallway and sees a figure, head bent down and hand pressed to his abdomen where a large red stain covers the shirt. And then Brittany recognizes the Mohawk.

"Puck?" The man in question glances up briefly at the blonde haired leader before he looses his balance and falls to the ground, releasing a groan of pain in the process. Brittany walks quickly to Puck's side, the rest of her crew spill out from the conference room as they witness the situation.

As Brittany kneels by Puck's side she realizes that he's in a lot worse shape than what she saw at first glance. His left shoulder sags as though it's out of it's socket, there's a bruise covering the entire ride side of his face, and blood is seeping from the wound on his stomach at a far quicker rate than should be healthy.

He coughs and blood trickles down his chin, "Mike…he…" His sentence trails off and Brittany is quick to tear her button up shirt from her body and press it into his wound.

"Rory, call 911 and someone get me something else to press against this wound!" Brittany shouts and Rory runs off to complete the command as Rachel and Sugar both dash to Puck's other side with another shirt to use for compression and a bottle of water.

Brittany allows Sugar to take over putting pressure on the wound, "Puck, where's Mike at? What happened to you guys?"

The man shakes his head slightly, his breathing labored as he manages to glance up into piercing blue eyes, "We…don't know…what…h-happened…" He wheezes out and Rachel dribbles some water in his mouth before he coughs and spits out the blood, Brittany notices thankfully, that appears to be from a cut on his lip. "He's still out there…he's in…trouble."

Without taking a second to hear or understand anything more Brittany turns to David, "Here, keep him awake until the paramedics get here." David nods and kneels next to his friend. Brittany stands and wipes her hands off on her jeans just as Rory comes running back into the room.

"The ambulance is on their way, they said six minute ETA."

"Thanks Rory," Brittany says and then glances back at Puck. The shape he's in is worse than she's ever seen anyone in, and it pisses her off. Puck may not be her direct crew, but he's part of Santana's, and Santana is everything. Brittany turns back to Rory, "Mike's still out there, I can't risk leaving him for dead or anything. I need you to triangulate the last location of the car they took. If Puck drove it back here, you can backtrack from where right?"

Rory's face lights up in excitement, "Yeah, I think I can do that."

Brittany nods, "Good, do it and call me as soon as you know." She says and then turns and starts to head for the exit.

"But boss, where are you going?" Someone shouts after her.

Without even a look over her shoulder, Brittany shouts back in their general direction, her voice hard and determined.

"I'm going to make sure Mike is okay, and when he is, I'm going to kick Jesse St. James ass."

#################

Santana navigates through the gates that lead to Jesse's warehouse with an even greater nervous apprehension and general fear than usual. It's strange to her, a normally very unfazed or scared person to be so terrified of one guy and his mismatched crew of seemingly evil dooers.

One would think that after all this time Santana would be use to coming to this forsaken place, but the more she spends time with Jesse and his crew the more she loathes the very existence of the man, and the more she wants to be back in the safety of Brittany and her own crew.

At least there she trusts people.

The only people she has on the inside at Jesse's are Brooke and Jake, but even only they can do so much.

She's ushered into one of the many garages while driving the Plymouth, fresh off of being fixed up just enough by Brittany a few hours prior. She parks and climbs lithely from the car, thankful that Brody is not rushing to her side to 'escort' her in. The less time she has to be around him and the hands he's constantly trying to put on her, and not succeeding very well with, the better.

Santana walks from the shop area into the main part of the warehouse, turning into the storage part where Jesse keeps all of his 'product' stored ready to be set out or sorted or whatever the hell you do with drugs and what not. The workers do their thing as Santana struts by them. Very few people notice her, and even less acknowledge her, and she is ever thankful for that. The less she has to do with any of them, the safer she feels about everything.

When she reaches the corridor that leads to the office areas, where Jesse is expected to be waiting for her arrival, Santana starts to get a weird tingly vibe all over her body. Like something isn't right. As she passes one of the 'rooms' in particular she hears muffled grunts and smashing sounds. She's quick to hurry on from that room, fearful of what may be occurring behind it.

Finally Santana reaches Jesse's 'office' door and gives a singular knock upon the surface. She waits a beat after she hears the 'Come in' from the other end before she reaches out and twists the door handle to swing the door open.

Even though she doesn't feel much of it, Santana strides into the room in confidence a look of indifference and boredom showing on her face. She immediately takes in the sight of Brooke standing close to Jesse's desk, Brody in the corner of the room regarding her with what would see to be a hurt look, and a man in a police uniform she has never seen before in her life.

Suddenly Santana's blood runs cold, something is definitely not right.

She meets the cold, sadistic gaze of Jesse St. James and watches as a wicked smile forms across his lips. He inclines his head to her before he speaks.

"Ah, so very nice of you to finally join us…Ms. Lopez."

* * *

**Dun dun duhhhhhh. What Remy another cliffhanger? How dare I! Oh wait no, that's what I had planned. Hugs and air kisses everyone, see you next Friday! (If you have to throw a brick at me, at least tell me what your favorite color is. Mine is green!) Thanks y'all!**


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